Love Is the Deadliest Weapon
by sherazade96
Summary: The rebellion failed. All the districts were brought back; in addition, District 13 was forced to attend the Games. Now, 24 years later, a new Head Gamemaker, Venus Smith, has been appointed. Her goal? She will turn love into the deadliest weapon. Let the 99th annual Hunger Games begin! SUBMISSIONS FOR SPONSORS are AVAILABLE! (18/26 alive)
1. Sunset

**Hi, everyone! This is my first fanfic, I hope you'll enjoy it. I'd like to make some clarifications before we start. First of all, you cannot submit tributes, I've decided to invent them this time. Nevertheless, you can sponsor and you'll also decide who shall win. Thank to your reviews, tributes will indeed earn points, which will determine their survival in the arena (see my profile for further info). Secondly, I'd like to write some chapters focused on sponsors, so I will accept submissions for them. PM me if interested. All the details about the sponsor system are on my profile. Thirdly, this is just an experiment to try something a bit different. Of course, if you think it doesn't work or have some suggestions to improve it, you can write it on your reviews. I'll always take into account constructive reviews.**

**For a start, I'll upload the first two chapters. Enjoy your reading :)**

* * *

_Last year_

_Falcon Smith (73)- President of Panem_

I gaze out of the window, waiting for the Head Gamemaker to come. A glass of wine in one hand, but I can't drink it. The Games season is over, and it was another disappointment. Yesterday, the girl from Five was crowned victor- not one of the audience's favourites, though. She didn't deserve it, but I _had _to crown her, nonetheless. How could such a wimp win the Hunger Games? She didn't show any special skills neither during training nor in the arena. She was just lucky. Like the last six victors. The Head Gamemaker is definitely incompetent! He let the Career alliance break before the time, so the Careers were too focused on killing each other than bothering about the little girl from Five. I shouldn't have trusted him. I must get rid of him by hook or crook!

My head starts aching. There's no use in dwelling on these things. I try to relax by watching the panorama. The sun is setting over the Capitol, casting its golden beams on the glittering buildings, which slowly fill in hues of orange. From my private bureau, I can get a breath-taking view of the city every day, yet I can't help but admire its grandeur as if it was the first time I saw it.

A familiar beep interrupts my thoughts. It's the telephone exchange. I put the glass of wine on my desk and dial "0" for my secretary, Lila Bonanza- a fatty woman in her thirties, who is used to dressing up in all possible shades of purple. To be sincere, I find her fashion silly, but, on the other hand, she's quite professional and knows her stuff.

"_The Head Gamemaker is there, Mr. President,_" she says.

"Let him in," I reply.

I look forward to having this thing done! Five minutes later, the Head Gamemaker enters the room.

"Good evening, Mr. President!" he greets me cheerfully but, as soon as our eyes meet, that flattering smile of his fades away.

I must look threatening. Repressing a smirk at this is really hard.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" he continues in a worried tone.

"Take a seat, please. There are a lot of things I'd like to discuss with you," I answer flatly, pointing at the couch in front of the desk with a gesture of my hand.

He sits down and I do it as well. Now we are face to face.

"If you were asked to describe the Games of this year, what would you say?" I enquire, trying to sound genuinely curious.

The Head Gamemaker swallows noisily. Clearly, he didn't expect this question, but he manages to answer, anyway: "Well, the audience loved the arena… the frozen landscape with geysers, a spectacle of ice and fire… it was absolutely stunning! Secondly, a well-assorted tribute bunch made these Games stand out from the past ones. Predicting who would win wasn't easy, almost all the tributes deserved the victory… the girl from Five was quite a surprise in this sense, no one would have bet on her, but she made it through… and I would say that her victory was not disappointing, she has proved herself."

"You think that she's a worthy victor, then… even worthier than a Career?"

"She might be weaker than a Career tribute, but strength alone isn't enough to win the Hunger Games... one needs to be smart and..."

"Please, don't say things that I already know and answer my question!" I interrupt him abruptly.

"Mr. President, the Careers broke their alliance too early, they underestimated the little girl… but with that I'm not saying that they weren't as worthy to win as our actual victor, they just made a mistake! It proves that there is a glimmer of hope even for the outer districts…" he rebuts defensively.

"Since you've become Head Gamemaker, there have been victors _only _from the outer districts, and this is your seventh year! Hell! That's more than a glimmer! Don't you find it unfair?"

"It's… it's not my fault if…" he stammers.

"Yes, it is, instead! Maybe you've forgotten that Career districts are more loyal to the Capitol than the rest of Panem, and that the districts rebelled _twice_, and _twice_ the rebellion started from the _outer _ones! The very aim of the Hunger Games is reminding those people of their defeat, but we must reward loyalty, too. Do you understand?"

"I do, sir. Next year a Career will win, I promise," he says with a deep sigh.

"Don't make promises you can't keep! I know you have this sort of _sympathy_ for the outer districts, but letting them hope so much is too dangerous. It's not the first time I blame you for that, and things have not changed, therefore I can't trust you again."

"Yes, you can, instead! I won't disappoint you next time!" he states with renewed ardour.

"It's too late, my decision is made: you're fired," I reply as coldly as ever.

The room falls silent. I expect him to beg for another chance, but luckily I am wrong. He has chosen to maintain his dignity. After all, only a fool or aspiring suicide would challenge the decisions of Panem's most powerful man.

"Fine. Could I know the name of my successor, at least?" he asks eventually.

"Of course. It's Venus Smith, my granddaughter."


	2. The New Head Gamemaker

_Present day_

_Venus Smith (26)- Head Gamemaker_

The gentle sunbeams wake me up. When did I fall asleep? I haven't got the faintest idea. To be sincere, I expected to stay awake all night. I can't believe it is happening: I am the new Head Gamemaker, and my first Games are about to begin! Recently, I've been so busy… and eager. I can feel the adrenaline running down my spine; my body is still trembling a little bit because of the tension I've been holding. There is, however, no time to waste: before the season officially starts, the Head Gamemaker is due to meet the president in order to talk over the last details. Well, considering the fact that the president is my grandfather, I shouldn't worry about that, but I really can't help it. I know he trusts me, but now there are too much things at stake. I've already worked as a Gamemaker, but I've never had the occasion to lead before. Being a leader… that's a whole other story. The entire nation will want me to provide them with an unforgettable spectacle, and I can't… I _must_ not disappoint them. If I succeed, I will become a heroine; if I fail, my career will be wrecked. Even my grandfather with all his power and influence can't protect me from that. But I won't fail!

With this belief cheering me up, I pull myself out of bed, slide on my silky scarlet nightgown, and head to the bathroom for a quick shower. After that, I dismiss my avox. I don't want any help, not today: I'll do my hair, make-up, choose my outfit, and prepare breakfast myself. All by myself. I can think in a more prolific way when left alone, and right now I must think about what to tell the president. He's likely to ask me something about the arena I chose, my first arena, but I don't want to reveal too many details before the time. I must work on my image, too. By the time I get to my grandfather's bureau, paparazzi will certainly be swarming outside the building. What impression should I leave them with? Will I be a strong leader to them? Or just a wimp recommended by the president? Things are never easy when you're famous.

I snort. Let's start with the outfit. I scan my closet attentively. What am I looking for? _Maybe that pantsuit… no, too fancy… no, that's too casual…_ Eventually, my eyes go over a tight, long-sleeved, up-to-the-knee, red dress. I can't help a smirk. Red, the colour of blood, my favourite colour. It suits the situation perfectly. The only colour contrast, made by a from-the-shoulders-down, black band, bestows some sense of seriousness on the dress. It's intriguing without being provocative, simple but not mediocre. That's precisely the message I want to convey. I can be both an interesting woman and a focused Head Gamemaker, I just need to be myself. My appearance must reflect that. As for my make-up, black eyeliner and light lipstick will do it… and my hair… I'll wear it down to display its natural brown curls.

After having breakfast- a cup of coffee and some butter cookies- I leave my apartment. Outside, there's a limousine waiting for me. Since I live near the city centre, it doesn't take much to reach my destination. If I still lived with my parents in their lavish villa, the ride would be longer... but, luckily, I've moved three years ago. I couldn't stand their nagging demands on marriage any longer. The very thought makes me feel smothered… I needed my space, I needed to be independent! My grandfather was the only one who understood, he introduced me to the gamemaking world… this job has been a lifeline.

When the driver stops the limo, I'm back to planet Earth. He helps me out. I'm immediately overwhelmed by all that flashing of cameras and asking of reporters that usually accompanies prominent figures, but, luckily, some bodyguards help me through the crowd. I limit myself to wave and smile while I'm moving towards the entrance, without paying too much attention to the questions I'm asked. Interviews are not exactly my favourite part of being the new Head Gamemaker. When finally I get in, there's absolute silence. At first, the contrast between outside and inside is weird but pleasant. I can only hear the distinct noise of my heels on the black marble tiles, which seems to follow my heartbeat. After having a quick word with the secretary, I walk in my grandfather's bureau.

"Hello, Venus," he greets me.

"Hello."

"Please, take a seat. How are you today?"

"I-I'm fine," I answer. My tone is hesitant. Since he doesn't say anything, I add: "Maybe just a little bit nervous."

"You've got no reason of being nervous, dearie. I know you will be amazing."

Dearie. I don't like it when my grandfather uses terms of affection at the workplace. To me, being able to separate work and family is fundamental. So, I decide to go straight to the point: "Well, thanks. Now… shall we go down to business, sir?"

He smiles. I know he thinks that I'm too professional, that, considering the fact that he's my grandfather, I should relax a little bit… but he's also the president of Panem, after all! What am I supposed to do? Should I call him grandpa even at work, like it was nothing? No, that would be disrespectful!

"You remind me of your grandma, Venus. Always so focused and straightforward," he replies, grinning.

My grandmother, Gorgo Smith, was a Capitolite but worked as a peacekeeper in District 2. She died during the uprising, when the rebels attacked its stronghold. That's why my grandfather hates rebels and, by extension, all the outer districts. That's why the previous Head Gamemaker was laid off. He helped outer-district tributes instead of Careers, and my grandfather couldn't stand that… but these things are not to be discussed in front of him. I'm not that foolish, so I limit myself to nod.

"Anyway, let's talk about the Games! I've watched the recap of your first interview as Head Gamemaker, and there is something I'd like to ask you…" he continues in a mysterious tone.

The president shows me the interview on his tablet. He pauses the video when I'm asked the question: "Gamemakers have accustomed us to any kind of device to make things, let's say, more interesting in the arena, so what are you going to do to distinguish yourself?", to which I answered: "Every edition has its own story, but there is something that will never change. I mean, tributes will always look for allies and bond with them. That's precisely what I want to exploit. Love can make you stronger, but it can also be turned into a weapon… a deadly weapon, I would add."

"Did I say something wrong?" I ask defensively.

"No, you didn't. On the contrary, you seemed quite self-confident. I really appreciate it. But… have you got a plan?" he enquires doubtfully.

"Of course! I don't speak out of turn! I'll do exactly what I said!" I talk back. My pitch a little bit higher than I intended.

"Don't get me wrong, I didn't mean to question your determination. I know, however, that there's a lot of pressure hanging over you now, and I don't want you to overdo things. Do you understand?"

I compose myself before answering: "I do, sir. But I can assure you that I have the situation in hand."

"Fine."

There's a moment of silence, which, however, seems like an eternity to me. But I can't wait any longer. I must ask him the question on which I've been dwelling for weeks. I need to work up the courage! Eventually, I venture to speak: "I have a question for you as well, Mr. President, if you don't mind."

"Please."

He seems surprised but not completely. He's kind of relieved. Maybe he finds silence awkward like me.

"I'd like to ask about who shall win and…" I start talking, but I'm immediately interrupted.

"I know what you are getting at, Venus. It would certainly be better, if a Career won, since we cannot let the outer districts gain confidence. Our predecessors made this mistake twice, but it won't happen again, I swear! On the other hand, I don't want you to worry about it more than is necessary. Just give Panem a worthy victor. That's all I demand from you, Venus."

* * *

**So, these are the first two chapters. We got to know two important characters: President Smith and the new Head Gamemaker. What do you think of them?**

**Next chapter, we'll start with the Reaping of District 1. Thank you for reading :)**


	3. D1: the Ambitious and the Empathetic

**Hi, everyone! I've updated the first chapter and my profile. Now, you can submit the characters of the sponsors, if you want. I'm going to write some chapters focusing on the interactions between them and mentors. PM if interested.**

**As promised, this chapter will be about the Reaping of District 1. We'll get to know the first two tributes. Let me know what you think about them in your reviews. Enjoy your reading :)**

* * *

_Last year_

_Claude __Dulac __(17)- Citizen of District 1_

It's pouring. I wrap myself tight in my sweater to protect myself from the chilly air that sends shivers down my spine. I wish it stopped. I wish I could go home. But Excelsa would certainly get angry at me, if I didn't wait for her as usual. So here I am, under a canopy that barely prevents me from getting wet. Sometimes, I feel like a stalker… waiting right outside the girls' locker room at the academy. Yes, if Excelsa was not my girlfriend, I would call myself a stalker.

Girls start to get out of the building with umbrellas in hand, heading home quickly, or to whatever place they must go. When Excelsa finally emerges from that noisy swarm, I can tell from the way she looks at me that something went wrong. Her eyes are reddish, as if she had wept. Weeping? That's not of her!

"What's up?" I ask her.

"I was beaten!" she answers with clenched fists, hardly repressing her frustration.

"Well, that's not the end of the world… I mean, just a single defeat won't make the difference, you're still a good fighter."

"But it _would _make it in the arena, Claude! If I want to win the Hunger Games, good is not enough, I need to be the best!" she retorts.

Excelsa is right. Make one mistake in the arena and you are dead. That's what the academy is for, to select the best tributes. But there is still some room for bad luck. After all, who knows what may happen in the arena? Even Gamemakers have no crystal ball.

"Who did you fight against?"

She snorts. "That's the worst part of all. I lost against a sixteen-year-old. A sixteen-year-old! I don't even remember her name, but I've heard from some trainers that she is quite promising. Wouldn't be surprised, if she volunteered for the Games this year. Our trainers would be glad of that, at least."

I can tell from her tone that she has given up the idea of getting into the Games, at least for this year. Excelsa can be so stubborn at times, that there's no use in trying to make her change her mind. Once a decision is made, that's it.

"Next year, you will turn eighteen, you will still be able to volunteer. But you'll have to show that you're up to the Games, Excelsa. I suggest you start training from now. The last one to the park is a wuss!"

That said, I start running, regardless of the rain. "Hey, that's not fair!" I hear Excelsa shout from behind. I can't help giggling. Although I have a head start on her, she quickly catches up. We get to the park at the same time. Well, "park" is a nice word for a ragged meadow with some rusty roundabouts and a tree. But it's the place where we first met and kissed… it's special in its own way. Excelsa and I climb the tree till we reach a branch solid enough to support our weights. There we stop, panting. For a while, neither says anything, we just look at each other. Even if soaking wet, Excelsa is still the prettiest girl I have ever met. Her long, blonde hair and her fierce, grey eyes… under the rain, they seem even greyer, even fiercer.

At some point, she smiles. "What about you?" she asks under her breath.

"What?"

"What about your training?" she adds.

"Oh, well… our trainers are still on the fence, but I stand a chance. You know, we haven't got that chosen-tribute thing like in Two, but I'm sure no one at the academy would complain, if I decided to volunteer."

"Glad to hear that."

We have silently agreed that the Hunger Games are a priority, that our relationship will never prevent us from becoming tributes. We have planned to volunteer in two different years, of course. Yet, now that we're both seventeen, I start wondering whether I really want to risk my life in the arena, to risk losing Excelsa forever. As a matter of fact, District 1 hasn't been lucky in recent years. Who am I to change things? … No! This is no way to be thinking! I've been training for the Games all my life, I can't miss the opportunity of representing my district in front of the entire nation! I will volunteer this year!

To dispel all those negative thoughts, I decide to change the subject. "And what about your brother? Has he made some friends at the academy?" I ask.

"Prince? You know how sociable he is! Yes, he enrolled later than the others, but had no problem integrating. He's so happy and motivated, but… I don't know…". She hesitates and takes a deep breath. "I don't think he has what it takes… you know, he got cut because he lacked physical strength, he was accepted this year only due to our parents' influence. Of course, I don't dare to tell them that, you know how they would react…"

I nod. Of course I know it. Their parents were both average trainees, therefore they were never taken into consideration for the Games, and ended up working as trainers at the academy. Certainly, they have pinned their hopes on their kids. Telling them that their son isn't up to their expectations would be definitely awkward. Excelsa and Prince have been taught to be ambitious since childhood. Once, I heard their father scold Excelsa, because she had fallen during an obstacle course and was moaning: "Where do you think you are, kid? Here we train fighters, not whiners! Get up and start the exercise again! Make your family proud for once!"

Suddenly, Excelsa starts climbing higher, as if she had read my thoughts.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I ask.

"We are training to win the Games, aren't we? We must be prepared for the arena. Who knows? Being good climbers might give us a head start," she answers, without interrupting her climbing.

"Pay attention, then, the bark is slippery," I say, following her.

She climbs higher and higher, but at some point she stops, because the foliage is too thick. As she's trying to climb down, she loses her grip. I look up with terror as she falls on me, but manage somehow to catch her and maintain my grip on the tree. Now, she's all wrapped around me like an ape, trembling with fear. It takes a while for her to recover, but eventually she's able to descend to the ground, safe and sound. I start climbing down as well, but I'm not as lucky as my girlfriend. I slip and fall. I try to catch one of the lowest braches but fail. I land- don't know how- on my feet, but the impact with the ground has been too violent. I hear a tremendous "crack" from my right ankle, and a burst of searing pain runs immediately through my body. I'm not able to keep my balance and fall to the ground, my trembling hands around my ankle.

"Claude!" I hear Excelsa shout as she comes running to me. She kneels down beside me, her grey eyes full of terror. "Don't worry, Claude! I'll carry you to the hospital, they'll fix your ankle in no time!"

_But it's too late, Excelsa, I already know that it has broken beyond repair..._

…...

_5 years ago_

_Kyle Whiteswan (12)- Citizen of District 1_

I look out of the limousine's window, lost in my thoughts. The lights of the city by night flash before my eyes like a kaleidoscope. Normally, district citizens aren't allowed to visit the Capitol, unless they're tributes in the Games. But I'm an exception. I'm the son of King and Crystal Whiteswan, victors of the Hunger Games. My parents have been invited to a party here in the Capitol- not an uncommon occurrence- and they have decided to take me with them. It's my first time, though. They got a special permit, I suppose.

"Kyle! Are you listening to me?" the pitch of my mother turns suddenly higher.

I need all my self-control to avoid wincing, while I'm dragged back into reality. I look in her direction and find her severe, violet eyes trained on me. I can't hold her gaze for too long, in fact I look down almost immediately, ashamed. Before I got lost in my thoughts, my mother was instructing me about manners, so I venture an answer: "Well, uh… yeah, I'll be as pleasant as a sugar cube, mom. I mean… being invited to the Capitol, that's a great honour for our family… I won't make you look bad, I promise."

As pleasant as a sugar cube? Where's the hell did that come from? I can only hope that what I said is enough to quell her for a while.

"Your father and I count on that. Don't disappoint us, will you?" she says in her normal tone.

_Don't disappoint us _ergo _if you do disappoint us, we'll make your life a living hell_. I bite my lip. My life could actually be much worse than it is. Now, I'm of Reaping age, and certainly my parents will expect me to volunteer for the Games in a few years to follow their footsteps. Maybe that's why they took me with them, to display me like a prize. _Look, Panem, here's the future victor of the Hunger Games_. But I don't want this. I don't want to get into the Games. I train at the academy just in case I get reaped and nobody volunteers to take my place, so that it's more likely that I come back home alive. Shell-shocked but still alive. And the worst part of all is that since I've started training, I've always got high scores. How can I excel at something I don't like? That's a mystery.

In the meantime, the limousine has stopped. My mother quickly adjusts the pin with the logo of our family on her silver dress, and gives me and my father two identical items. The logo is quite simple: it represents a white swan in flight, as the constellation. Only one of its eyes is visible and is replaced by a little amethyst. A violet gem, violet like the eyes of my mother, which I've taken after her as I will inherit the jewelry business she has started after her victory alongside my father.

"Wear your pins, you two. A bit of publicity won't hurt," she says.

I realize that I've been only fumbling with my pin instead of wearing it, and so did my father.

"They'll be too busy gorging themselves, Crystal, they won't even notice your little pins. Besides, we don't need extra publicity, our business is going well," he remarks.

"Capitolites are among our best customers, we can't miss this opportunity!" she retorts, and then pins the item on his black shirt.

I wear it as well. After that, we all get out of the limousine. I can't help but gape when I see the majestic villa in which the party takes place. As son of two victors, I'm used to some luxury, but even our mansion in Victor's Village seems a shack compared to this palace. The white stairway, the grooved, marble pillars with golden decorations, the ornamental garden with fountains… this place exudes a dreamlike aura, as if it belonged to another era, to another world. The owner must be filthy rich. As soon as this thought dawns on me, I'm filled with loathing. District 1 is certainly more well-off compared to other districts, but there are still people who struggle to make a living. Sometimes, I wander around on the outskirts of town- without my parents knowing it, of course- and I can see misery in the eyes of people who live there.

"This villa belongs to the president's family. Maybe we'll be lucky and meet him tonight," says my father.

"Umm... very unlikely. You know, he is said to hate parties like that, especially with outsiders as guests," replies my mother with a frown.

"What do you mean by outsiders?" I chime in, confused.

"_We_ are the outsiders, Kyle," she answers.

"After the war, President Smith has tried to limit social contacts between district citizens and Capitolites. But we- your mother and I- won the Games before the uprising and did not join those mindless rebels. Loyal victors are always welcome in the Capitol, don't worry," explains my father with a kind smile, patting my head.

"President or not president, we'll enjoy this party, anyway! Come on, let's go in! Keeping our hosts waiting is definitely impolite!" says my mother.

The inside of the villa is as majestic as the outside. A valet in white uniform lets us in a great hall that seems to be made of pure gold, except for the giant glass chandeliers hanging on the ceiling, and the great windows on both sides that look into the garden and the wonderful starry sky. Tables and tables full of any possible kind of food and drink are lined around the dancefloor, and there is also a little orchestra in one corner. It is immediately clear to me that the quantity of food is excessive in proportion to the number of guests, which is much lower than I expected. Guess this party is only for the closest friends, then. Soon, I get bored of the conversations- which, just for a change, are mainly about the Hunger Games- and focus on the food. Sweet, salty, bitter, spicy… I eat so much that my sense of taste starts to get confused. At some point, I notice a plate with exotic, yellow fruit cut so as to form many little triangles in a spiral around the centre of the plate, where the top of the original fruit stands- long-pointed, green leaves and the skin with some kind of geometrical pattern. I nibble on a triangle. It's sour and juicy.

"It is called pineapple," says a voice behind my back.

I turn around and see a girl with a pair of piercing, brown eyes watching me. She is clearly much older than me, with shoulder-length, curly, brown hair and rosy skin. She's wearing a broad, pink dress and a tiara on her head like a princess.

"I'm Venus, by the way," she says.

"Nice to meet you, my name is Kyle. The… pineapple is delicious."

"Oh, I can see that you like it," she says with a faint smile. Before I can get what she means, she adds: "Maybe you should go to the restroom to wash those stains on your shirt."

I look down and see that the pineapple's juice has dripped and stained my white shirt. I immediately blush, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. "Yeah, the… the pineapple… the pineapple was juicier than I expected. I… I'm sorry, I must seem a savage to you now…" I stammer, without looking at Venus. I hate pineapples! And I had promised not to embarrass myself! My parents will kill me! But, to my surprise, she just chuckles and shows me where the restroom is.

…...

_Present day_

_Excelsa Serafin (18)- Citizen of District 1_

I stop to wipe away the sweat from my brow and take a sip of water. The sun is slowly rising but can hardly pierce the thick fog of this morning. What a gloomy day! Not the best one to hold a Reaping. But I don't care. This gonna be my day, the day in which Panem will get to know me. I finish my usual run in the neighbourhood and head home for a shower. Today I must look nice, but not nice as one of those princess-like girls who usually represent District 1, nice as a warrior ready to fight. I smirk at the thought. No dresses and makeup today. All those frills are pointless in the arena. I'll wear a blue blouse, black leggings, and white sneakers. I comb my hair in a ponytail. I look at my reflection in the mirror and smile. That's just me, pure and simple.

As I walk down the stairs, Prince surpasses me, running towards the kitchen.

"You're a snail, sis!" he shouts.

He seems to me more excited than I am about the Reaping. And he's only fourteen, he won't be getting into the Games this year. Not in a Career district, that's for sure. I join him in the kitchen, where our parents are already having breakfast- scrambled eggs, bacon, and orange juice. As usual, there isn't much talking.

"You should eat, Excelsa, it gonna be a busy day," says my mother, at some point.

"I'm not hungry," I answer.

"Is everything ok? No second thoughts, I hope, this is your last chance," she continues doubtfully.

"I'm fine," I assure her. "What about my possible fellows?" I ask just to change the subject.

"Well, there are some promising trainees this year, but no one you should really worry about. Good allies, yes, but when the pack will split, they won't stand a chance against you, Excelsa, you're definitely better trained," answers my father.

He's right about my training. My parents made me drop school years ago, so that I could focus exclusively on it. I can devote more time to training than the majority of my contemporaries, and I must thank them for that. With such a preparation, nobody will ever be able to stop me.

We finish breakfast and head to the square. The streets are slowly filling with people. Luckily, the fog has disappeared and, in its place, the merry sun is now shining. Mainly trainers with their families live in our part of District 1, so I know most of them from the academy.

"Excelsa!" I hear shout from behind.

I immediately recognize the voice. It's Virginia, the daughter of our neighbours, the Embers. I often hang out with her, when I'm not training. Today, she's wearing a tight, violet t-shirt with a bell-shaped, black skirt. I point to her outfit, bewildered. That's not her style. She has always been a tomboy.

"If I get reaped, I'll have my five-second glory before you upstage me, and I want to look smart for the cameras," she explains with a wide smile. She knows, of course, that I'm going to volunteer. Everyone at the academy knows it. I can only hope that none of the girls will be so stupid to do it as well.

When we reach the square in front of the Justice Building, I part from my parents and head to eighteen-year-old section alongside Virginia. I spot Claude in the crowd and my heart sinks. His ankle has not fully healed, now he's forced to walk with a cane for the rest of his life. As a consequence, he had to renounce the Hunger Games. A crippled boy cannot be a Career, after all. And it's all my fault. Claude has never reproached me for it, but I can't forgive myself. I don't even know if I should still call him my boyfriend, our relationship has cooled down since his accident.

In the meantime, the mayor has started to read the Treaty of Treason. Then, the escort from the Capitol is introduced- a rather little woman, whose outfit seems to be made of the same transparent plastic bottles are made. Under that… thing, she wears a white petticoat.

"Good morning, District 1! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" she squeaks on the mic.

What a shrill voice! I'd like to cover my ears, but here, in the front row, she could see me. She bounces towards the girl ball, but I can't wait for her to pull out a slip of paper. In fact, I immediately shout: "I volunteer!" and fiercely mount the stage.

"Oh, you're an eager tribute, you are! What's your name, dearie?" the escort asks me.

"My name is Excelsa Serafin, your future victor!" I answer with a confident smile.

"Well, let's find out who your fellow tribute is, Excelsa!" she says, willing to be again the centre of attention, which I have stolen from her before the time. She rummages in the male ball for a while, then chooses a slip and, finally, reads the name: "Kyle Whiteswan!"

A boy emerges from the seventeen-year-old section. Tall, athletic, ashy blonde hair, and his eyes… his eyes are of a wonderful violet. He's so handsome. This thought dawns on me before I can stop it. Whiteswan, this name is familiar to me, though. Of course! The Whiteswans! His parents are two victors! I bite my lip. Handsome, son of two victors… the Capitol will definitely love him.

"I volunteer!" I hear shout from the crowd below. _No, no, please, not you…_ but Claude is already limping towards the stage.

"You want to get into the Games with that foot!? I don't think so!" says Kyle.

"What!? I'm saving your life, you idiot! Get off the stage, _I'll_ be the male tribute of District 1! You can always get your chance next year!" rebuts Claude, his eyes full of rage.

"There's no way I'll let you take my place! I've been reaped and I'll certainly be a better tribute than this… cripple."

Kyle wants to appear disgusted, I suppose, but there's something in his voice that tells me he's only playing… some kind of pity, maybe.

"You…"

Claude is about to attack Kyle, but two peacekeepers stop him. At this stage, Jay Grayfogg- District 1 last victor- leaps from his seat behind my back with an annoyed expression on his face. "I think we've had enough of this ridiculous spectacle. Mr. Whiteswan is right and he'll be our tribute."

The peacekeepers drag Claude back to his section, while he's squirming like crazy. "No! That's unfair! Excelsa! You can't go alone!"

I avoid looking at him. Kyle and me shake hands and are quickly let inside the Justice Building.

The first person to visit me is Claude. He immediately hugs me, but I break his embrace.

"You made yourself look ridiculous. What were you thinking?" I ask him as coolly as I can, even though the uneasiness between us is palpable.

"I-I'm sorry, Excelsa, I-I don't know what got into me… just… the fear of losing you overwhelmed me, I volunteered to protect you, to make you win," he answers with a broken voice, as if he was sobbing.

"You would accept to die to make me win?"

"Sure! There's nothing else worth to be fought for! At least, in the Games, I would do something useful…"

"I mean nothing to you, then… _our_ relation means nothing, _our_ dream to live together..." I say, almost crying.

"Excelsa, I…"

"Get out of here! I've heard enough! I've been training all my life for the Hunger Games, more than any other Career in the history of Panem! I will win even without your pathetic sacrifice, that's for sure!" I shout, watching him right in the eye.

When Claude gets out the waiting room, I'd like so badly to keel over on the ground and cry, but I know that I can't, not with all those cameras rolling outside, ready to broadcast my moment of weakness in all of Panem. Weakness, that's what it is. Love is weakness, and I won't give in to it. I'll win for myself, because that's what I want, what I was born for, not because someone expects me to do it, not because someone wants me to come back. I compose myself, waiting for my next visitors.

My parents and Prince come next. My brother hugs me. "I'm so proud of you. The Capitolite was so annoyed 'cause you volunteered too soon! What an epic scene!" he says, chuckling.

I smile back. "I couldn't wait any longer."

My parents start talking about strategy. Luckily, no one mentions what has happened at the Reaping with Claude. I don't want to think about him right now.

"Beware your district partner, Excelsa, he's one on the best trainees of his age. Make sure he joins the pack, but don't trust him," says my father.

"He's the son of two victors, he'll certainly get many sponsors. You have to show them that you're better than him, you may need some help once in the arena," adds my mother.

"I have no intention of letting him win, the crown is waiting for me. Being to son of two victors won't save his life," I say with a smirk.

They give me other advice, then leave the room. Also Virginia comes to say goodbye alongside other girls, but I'm thinking about something else, my mind is already travelling to the Capitol and to my future victory.

…...

_Kyle Whiteswan (17)- District 1 male tribute_

My parents hug me tight. I'd like this embrace to last forever, but, at some point, it must be broken. We sit on the soft velvet couches of the waiting room.

"We're so proud of you, my son. It's a pity you couldn't volunteer, but you're a Career, anyway. You'll prove yourself and give Panem another Whiteswan victor, won't you?" says my mother, teary.

I limit myself to nod. I'm afraid that if I spoke, my true feelings might emerge. Why me? I don't want to get into the Games. I don't want to be a Career. I don't want to kill. But it's too late to get cold feet. Now, I'm the male tribute of District 1 in the 99th Hunger Games. I could have let that boy take my place at the Reaping, but he would have walked into a certain death. Maybe that's precisely what he wanted. But I stand a chance to survive, at least. A capable tribute is always better than one who is already dead.

"You have already proved yourself when you faced that crippled boy at the Reaping. Well done, Kyle. I wonder how he dared to volunteer, he cannot hold a candle to a true Career like you!" says my father.

"Guess he wanted to protect the girl," I say.

"He would get himself killed, depriving his district of the possibility of having a victor. What a selfish boy!" he retorts.

"Anyway, since we won't see each other for a couple of weeks, I'd like you to take something with you to the Capitol," my mother chimes in.

She gives me a pin with the logo of our family.

"Mom! You want me to promote our business even in the arena!?" I speak up, unbelieving.

She shakes her head. "No, I just want you to have something of home. Consider it as a district token," she replies with a sad smile.

There is so much tenderness in her voice, that I want to cry, but I hold back. I stand up and hug her. "Don't worry, I'll come back in no time, you won't even notice my absence," I say under my breath. It's weird, I'm going to fight to the death and I'm the one who comforts instead of being comforted.

After my parents are gone, I sit down again on one of the couches, waiting for a peacekeeper to call me. But I get an unexpected visit. It's the crippled boy of the Reaping. At first, I just stand up, unable to speak.

"What do you want?" I ask him, eventually. I hope that my tone isn't aggressive. Actually, I don't know what I should expect from him, so I'm a bit on edge.

"Why do you want to be in the Games?" he replies with another question.

"If I had let you volunteer, you would have died in the arena."

"So you're in the Games out of pity?"

"Out of empathy, maybe." I correct him.

"Empathy?"

I can tell by his expression that he's confused.

"She's your girlfriend, isn't she?"

He nods in response.

"What's your name?" I ask him.

"Claude," he answers.

"Well, Claude, I'm really sorry for what happened at the Reaping, for the way I treated you… believe me, it was just for the cameras, I didn't mean to be…"

"Such an asshole?" he finishes my sentence.

I can't help chuckling. "Yes, maybe that's the right word. Anyway, if you had got into the Games, your girlfriend would have lost you forever in order to win. Did you want that to happen?"

He doesn't say anything in response.

"I bet not. Now she has someone waiting for her at home, someone to fight for," I add.

"You don't want to win, then?"

"Of course I'd like to win! But if I didn't, I'd like her to be crowned victor. Don't worry, I'll do my best to make sure a tribute from our district survives."

* * *

**So, Excelsa Serafin and Kyle Whiteswan are the tributes of District 1 in the 99****th**** Hunger Games. What do you think of them? If you were them, would you behave the same way?**


	4. D2: the Envious and the Bloodthirsty

_A couple of weeks before the Reaping_

_Roger Olympus (18)- Chosen tribute_

I look at my reflection in the mirror. I'd like so badly to loosen my tie, but my parents would certainly scold me, if I went out with something out of place. Everything must be perfect tonight. Tonight there's the Chosen Tribute Ceremony. Every year, the academy selects two trainees to represent District 2 in the Hunger Games, and the chosen ones are officially appointed during this ceremony. This year, it's my turn. I smile at the thought. I look forward to using the weapons of the Capitol, they're said to be far more sophisticated than those we have at the academy. Of course, Capitolites can afford to buy the best armaments. Here, in District 2, we can only count on academy fees and victors' donations, and the enthusiasm for the Games has quite cooled down since the last rebellion, not to mention the fact that we haven't had a victor in years. But things are about to change.

I hear some footsteps approach, and then the door of my room opens. I turn around and see my best friend in the doorway.

"Victor Blade, I didn't expect you to come get me at home," I greet him.

"I couldn't not accompany my friend to his ceremony," he replies, grinning.

"I thought you were still too disappointed to speak to me."

There's always been a bit of competition between Victor and me. Certainly, being excluded from the Games has been a blow to him. He's 18 like me, he has lost his last chance.

Victor shakes his head. "It's like you said, Roger… my lack with long-range weapons has cost me the opportunity to compete in the Hunger Games. I can't blame anyone but myself."

"I hope nothing has changed between us. We're still friends, aren't we?"

"Of course! Don't worry, when the Games will be over, I'll find a new purpose in life," he says with a weird smile.

I hope he truly means it. Yet that smile… it doesn't bode well, it's the kind of smile you may have when secretly plotting. But Victor is not the type. Yes, he's too competitive at times, but not two-faced. And he's my best friend, after all. I know he will overcome his disappointment.

"What are we waiting for? You don't want to be late, do you?" he says.

Neither says a word, while we're heading to the academy. Yet Victor seems to be particularly happy. I wonder why. Is he sincerely happy for me? Or is he just trying to hide his disappointment? What is he thinking? No, tonight I should think only of myself, that's my moment. Whatever is going through Victor's head, it's not my problem.

The Ceremony is reserved to academy members. It's quite simple: our trainers compliment on the excellent work and encourage us to carry on; then, the names of the chosen tributes are said aloud and they mount a little stage, set up for the occasion. It's a sort of dry run before the real Reaping.

"Roger Olympus!"

When my name is called, I flaunt my most winning smile and mount the stage. "Good evening to all of you! I'll do my best to be up to the honour of being a tribute of District 2. Our proud district deserves a victor, therefore my father, the owner of the Olympus weapons factory, has decided to invest money to sponsor our tributes!"

That wins the crowd. I receive the cheers till the trainers are forced to silence the crowd to say the name of my district partner.

"Scarlett Pearce!"

A girl with straight, dark hair, bowl haircut, and stunning, ice blue eyes mounts the stage. She doesn't say anything, just nods in the direction of the trainers. We shake hands. The expression on her face is something unintelligible. She looks untroubled, her lips slightly curled to form a subtle smirk that makes me freeze.

After the Ceremony is over, I take a walk with Victor.

"What do you think of Scarlett?" I ask him, when we're left alone.

"In what sense?" he replies.

"What was your impression of her?"

"Tonight was the first time I saw her, and she didn't say a word, what impression do you think I could get!? Anyway, she has to die, so who cares?" he answers.

"You're right, but…"

"What do you want to be told, Roger?" Victor interrupts me. "Scarlett has been chosen, so she's capable of something, I suppose."

"I don't know if I can trust her as ally," I say.

"She's likely to join the pack, but don't take it for granted, wouldn't be the first time Careers betray their allies too soon. By the way, why do you think she's not trustworthy?" Victor asks me, suddenly interested in the conversation.

"Don't know exactly… that's just the impression I got, there was something in her that didn't convince me. But I'll find it out soon, I suppose."

"Live and learn."

…...

_10 years ago_

_Kara Pearce (40)- Trainer at the academy_

Another year's gone since the last Hunger Games. Time just flew. We have worked hard to select the tributes for this year, for the 89th edition of the Hunger Games. District 2 has won twice in a row in the last two years. Two victors in a row, but we can do better, that's just a record to beat.

"What do you think of the tributes of this year?" I ask Markus.

Markus Schwarz is one of the oldest trainers of the academy. He has great experience in training young pupils for the Games, therefore his opinion is held important.

"We did a great job in the last two years, but we cannot afford to flatter ourselves. The tributes of this year are certainly promising, but they'll have to play their cards right. Training at home and competing in the Hunger Games are two different things. And then, as for allies, there shouldn't be too much cohesion in the Career pack… cohesion can also mean rebellion," he answers, grimly.

"Rebellion?"

"I believe that district pride is better than cohesion among tributes from different districts, at least in the eyes of the Capitol. You know, the pack serves only to get rid of the weakest tributes before the real competition starts. The Hunger Games are a lone fight, in the end," he explains.

"You're right."

"Anyway, I've heard that you've got a niece, Kara. Does she attend the academy?" he suddenly changes the subject.

"Her name is Scarlett, she's my brother's daughter. She doesn't attend the academy, though, her parents are against it," I answer with a frown. I don't like talking about my family.

"Why?"

"My family belongs to the working class, Markus. We're simple people, and certainly not in the pool of the wealthiest families that can afford to pay academy fees. At the time, also my parents were dismayed when I decided to attend the academy. I had to drop school and start working to pay the fees myself, since they didn't help me."

"But it was worth it, wasn't it? You weren't chosen for the Games, but now you have a high-paying job," he offers.

"I've tried to convince my brother, but he's too stubborn, he'll never listen to reason," I say, shaking my head.

"I see."

Markus has given up, finally! I respect him as a person and as an older colleague, but he's so curious! If he had gone on with that conversation, I would have said too much. I would have said that my brother is about to divorce, because he suspects that his wife cheats on him. If it's true, he could get custody of little Scarlett. But that wouldn't change his mind about the academy. He would certainly make his daughter finish school and then work in a factory like him. With such an insecure family situation, the Hunger Games are the last of his thoughts. My brother has invited me for dinner tonight. I hope this invite isn't meant to give me bad news.

I have a shower as soon as I go back home from the academy. I need to relax, to think positive. But I have the feeling that something will go wrong tonight, and this unpleasant sensation won't disappear with a simple shower. Maybe I should bring a bottle of wine, it might lighten the mood. I don't like showing my brother that I can afford to spend more money than him, but showing up empty-handed would be impolite. I can afford to buy luxuries like wine because of my good income, secondly I haven't got a family to support. I've devoted my whole life to the academy. In any case, I've never been fit to marriage.

My brother lives on the outskirts of town, near the largest industrial zone of District 2. There are mainly weapons factories in this area, while stone working- District 2's other industry- is concentrated in the small villages scattered across the mountains surrounding the main town, where the academy stands. It takes a while to reach his house by foot, but I don't mind a little exercise.

When I arrive, all the lights are off, and you can't hear any noise from inside the house. I start worrying. Where have they all gone? I enter with my heart in my throat. It's a single-floor house. The first room you see when entering is the kitchen, and now it's in a mess. Pieces of dishes and glasses are scattered across the floor along with cutlery and kitchen utensils. I put the bottle of wine on the table, then head carefully to the narrow corridor that separates the kitchen from the other rooms- a bedroom, which Scarlett shares with her parents, and a restroom. Thanks to the light coming from the window in the corridor, I spot some bloodstains on the floor. I'm covered in cold sweat, but I decide to follow them, nonetheless. They lead to the bedroom. The door is slightly open. I work up the courage to enter, and then switch on the light. I'd like to shout but no sound escapes my throat. I'm scared stiff. The corpse of my sister-in-law lays on the floor in a pool of blood! She has been stabbed to death. Next to her, my brother lays prone. The only evident wound he has is a hole that pierces his jugular. He's dead too. Then I see her. Scarlett is on her knees with a piece of bloodied glass in her hand. She's watching me, her blue eyes widened, her lips slightly curled to form what looks like a smirk.

"Scarlett," it's the only thing I can say.

She stands up with a wild-eyed expression on her pale face. I back off.

"What has happened?" I manage to ask her.

"My father killed my mother, so I avenged her," she answers coolly.

"You… you…" I stammer.

"Don't make that face. I know he was your brother, but he didn't deserve to live after what he'd done."

"How can you talk that way about your father?" I yell, snatching the piece of glass off her hand. "This will have consequences, you may be executed!"

"I don't think so, District 2 needs people like me," she rebuts, watching me right in the eye.

"What do you mean?" I ask, bewildered.

"For the Hunger Games, dear aunt. I know you'd like me to attend your academy, and I agree. Now that I know what killing a person means, I want more blood. I'm a born killer. Look! Look how many blows took that bastard to kill my mother! Me? Just one single lethal blow to get rid of him!" she answers with growing excitement, as if she was having fun.

…...

_Present day_

_Victor Blade (18)- Citizen of District 2_

I drift off early, but my slumber is troubled. I wake up in the dead of night, unable to go back to sleep. I look out of the window of my room, waiting for the sun to rise. The images of the party Roger gave tonight are still flashing before my eyes. He got drunk on only one shot. I shake my head. Too easy. Tomorrow will be Reaping day... or is it already today? In any case, I shouldn't worry about it, I already know what I must do.

When the dawn light finally comes into the room, I get up and do some stretching. I realize I went to bed with the same clothes I wore for the party and snort. Ok, I'll iron them, because they're my best clothes and I'm going to wear them at the Reaping. To be honest, they aren't that great- just a white shirt and a pair of beat-up jeans- but I can't afford too much with my father's wage and the money I earn thanks to my odd jobs. For now, at least.

I hear noises come from my father's room. He's already awake. Even though he has the day off, he's used to waking up early in the morning because of his job. In addition, he suffers from insomnia. Anyway, he has never been able to sleep well since my mother's death. She died in childbirth. My father has never blamed me for that, but I still wonder whether he resents me a bit. Certainly, he has not approved my decision to join the academy, but has never deprived me of his economic support. Telling him that all my friends attended it and that I didn't want to be excluded was enough to convince him. On the other hand, he expects me to find a stable job soon, which I'm not going to do, though.

After ironing my clothes, I go to the kitchen to have breakfast. My father is already there, making coffee.

"Morning, pa'," I greet him.

"Good morning," he greets me back with a hint of a smile.

I open the kitchen cupboard and pull out a small box. "I've saved some money and bought these cookies yesterday. We can have a decent breakfast at least on Reaping days," I say.

He just nods in response. He doesn't like wasting money on unnecessary things, but doesn't mind indulging in some goodies occasionally.

"We could afford to buy such things more often, if you had a stable job," he points out.

I roll my eyes and decide to ignore his comment. When coffee's ready, he pours it into two teacups. We sit at the table and have breakfast.

"I hope that after this folly will be over, you'll settle down, Victor. I know we've already talked about that thousands of times, but, believe me, it's for your own sake. There's no use in pretending to be what you can't be," he continues.

I snort. "Please, pa', spare me the lecture, at least today."

I do know what he means by "what you can't be". He refers to my friendship with Roger. We can be friends, but I'll never be his equal, as filthy rich as his family is. This slavish attitude of my father pisses me off, but I don't want to argue with him, not today. I finish my breakfast in silence.

There's a bus service to bring those who live on the outskirts to the main square, where the Reaping is held. There are mainly workers with their families on the bus. You recognize them by the way they look. Tired eyes and wrinkled faces. Even though they're wearing better clothes than the ordinary ones, you can see that they're humble people. I clench my fists. I don't want to look like them in the future! I deserve better!

Once at the square, those of Reaping age have to show up to the peacekeepers and sign in. Reapings are mandatory for everyone. I sign in and head to the front row, where the other eighteen-year-olds stand. The Reaping proceeds as planned. First of all, the mayor reads the boring Treaty of Treason, then the escort from the Capitol- a young man who wears a bright blue leotard with peacock feathers popping up all over it- mounts the stage.

"Hi, everyone! My name is Cornelius Flamingo! This is my first year as an escort, and I'm so happy to be assigned to District 2! I hope to start my career with two brave tributes! So, let's find out who they are! Ladies first!" he says, excited.

As expected, Scarlett volunteers to take the place of the reaped girl. Now, it's men's turn.

"Ludwig Kent!"

A skinny boy with messy, dark hair emerges from the fifteen-year-old section. He mounts the stage slowly, staring at the crowd with frantic eyes.

"Does anyone want to volunteer for this young man?" asks Cornelius.

No answer. The crowd around me starts murmuring. "Where's Roger?" someone whispers. I wait a moment just for show, then shout: "I volunteer!"

"Excellent! What's your name?" Cornelius asks me, grinning.

"Victor Blade," I answer.

"Let's give a round of applause for the tributes of District 2, Scarlett Pearce and Victor Blade! As always, happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

The crowd cheers. I shake hands with Scarlett. She glares at me, as if she wanted with her gaze to draw out of me why Roger is not here. But I'm not afraid of her.

I pace back and forth in the waiting room of the Justice Building, waiting for my father to come. I don't wait long. As soon as he enters, he slaps me.

"You, ungrateful son! You told me you joined the academy not to lose your friends, you didn't tell me that you wanted to be in the Games, that you are the chosen tribute!" he shouts, beside himself with rage.

"I'm _not_ the chosen tribute, pa'. Roger was the chosen tribute, but he got cold feet, I suppose," I say, rubbing my cheek.

"Why did you volunteer, then?"

"To save the situation. I'm one of the best trainees of the academy. This is my occasion to redeem myself!" I answer with a self-confident smile.

"Redeem yourself? What do you mean by that?"

"Changing things, pa'. When I win, we'll have a better life, we won't have to worry about money any longer! And, as for that bunch of filthy rich snobs like Roger, we'll look down on them! Can you imagine that?"

"I thought Roger was you best friend," says my father, bewildered.

I laugh at that. "Best friend? Roger always says that he doesn't care about social distance, but he's a liar! All that lending to me, it's like he said that I can't live without his charity! And he wanted to compete in the Games too, to become even richer than he already is! He has already _everything_, I have _nothing_ instead! I couldn't let him volunteer and take all the glory for himself!"

I bite my lip, maybe I've said too much.

My father is watching me, gaping. "Roger was not at the Reaping. What have you done to him, Victor?" he asks, worried and terrified, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt.

I make him release his grab. "Roger was dead drunk yesterday, that's all I know," I answer, watching him right in the eye.

"Victor, if you… if you've done anything… oh, Victor! His father is my boss! If you've done anything to Roger and they find it out, I could… I could…"

"You'll be fine as long as I'll be alive, pa'," I say.

When time's up, my father hugs me, and leaves the waiting room with a sad smile. I tell the peacekeeper at the door that I don't want to get any other visits. He just nods in response, and closes the door.

…...

_Scarlett Pearce (18)- District 2 female tribute_

Where's the hell is Roger? He should have volunteered! He's the chosen tribute, not that Victor! Maybe I've misjudged him. He seemed a worthy opponent, not a coward. I shake my head, disappointed. I sit on one of the couches of the waiting room, trying to look at the bright side. No matter who my district partner is, he has to die by someone's hand- hopefully mine- in the end. I smirk at the thought. I look forward to being in the arena. If it were up to me, I would skip all the first part of the Games and start right with it.

My thoughts are interrupted by my aunt's arrival. When I see her, I stand up and smile. Since the death of my parents, I've gone live with her. It's thanks to my aunt that I could attend the academy and be here today.

"I'm proud of you, Scarlett. You've worked hard to be here, and now your efforts have been rewarded," she says, hugging me.

When she breaks the embrace, I immediately ask her: "What has happened to Roger?"

"He was not at the Reaping. I've heard that he has been taken to the hospital, don't know why, though," she answers.

"Do you think that Victor is responsible?"

By her expression, I can tell that my question wasn't unexpected. My aunt has thought the same thing as me, namely that Victor's volunteering is suspect.

"If so, he's really capable of anything to reach his goal, even of betraying his friends. Victor and Roger are always together at the academy. He's not as good as Roger, but he may play a mean trick on you in the arena. If you think he's too dangerous to join the Career pack, get rid of him as soon as possible," she says, grimly.

"No problem," I reply.

"Scarlett, you've already killed, you know what it means, and this is certainly a great advantage, but remember that you fight to come back home, so don't take unnecessary risks," she goes on, watching me with a straight face.

"You said, I've already killed, and I'm not afraid of doing it again. We'll see if the other Careers are trained also to handle with killing," I say, defiant.

"Don't underestimate them. In any case, killing a man who didn't expect to be attacked is different from trying to kill someone who expects it."

"There's no difference, instead! 25 tributes have to die in the end, doesn't matter whether they expect it or not!" I shout. Being reminded of my father gets on my nerves. Remembering how he treated my mother, to only person who was always on my side… my aunt lost her brother that day, but I've lost more. I've never been able to get the image of her blood out of my mind, because her blood can be washed away only with other blood. I want more blood, I need it to forget.

My aunt backs off. She knows that my outbursts might be dangerous.

"Scarlett, I'm just giving you advice," she says with her hands forward in a defensive posture.

"I don't need them, I know what to do!" I rebut, beside myself.

"Very well, then. Just remember that I've always tried to protect you," she says, and then leaves the room.

* * *

**So, this is the Reaping of District 2. What do you think Victor has done to Roger? (if you think he's guilty)**

**Thank you for reading. Leave a review if you liked this chapter!**


	5. D3: the Chemist and the Tactician

**Hi, everyone! I inform you that there still plenty of slots free for sponsors , if you want to participate in this story in a more active way. You just need to PM me or send a review if interested. All info is on my profile.**

**And now let's start with the Reaping of District 3, the first outer district! Enjoy your reading :)**

* * *

_The day before the Reaping_

_Georgiana "Georgie" Clares (14)- Citizen of District 3_

"I thought you would have gone see your sister at the tournament," says Henry.

"Nah, it's the same thing every year, I've got tired of it. Besides, I suck at chess," I reply, snorting.

"Well, your support is important to her."

"If you think so."

No, I don't think my absence will upset Ambra. She's cold and calculating enough to win without my support, as she has already done other times, after all.

"I'm just saying that you should be there," says Henry.

"Why are you saying that? You don't want my company, Henry?" I ask him.

"I didn't mean that. It's just…" he hesitates, looking at the two peacekeepers behind us out of the corner of his eye.

Henry and his parents are among the few people who can cross the fence surrounding District 3 without being punished. His family runs an apothecary in town, and they often need to gather plants to prepare herbal remedies. Such plants can be found only outside the district. Of course, they're allowed to do it only if accompanied by peacekeepers. No one can escape their surveillance, not even beyond the fence.

"Anyway, what plants do you need to gather today?" I ask him, while we're heading to the woods outside Three.

"Just some yarrow. My mother suggests it when… you know, when women… when women have those pains," he answers, red-faced.

I blush as well. Henry kneels down and starts gathering. "We use the flowers and the leaves of the yarrow for the remedies… there, those tiny, white flowers," he explains, pointing them.

I kneel down beside him. I'm here to help him, but I'm not good at distinguishing plants, even if it's not the first time I accompany Henry and, with all his explanations, I should have learnt something. The truth is that I like being out of District 3 for a while. The fresh air of the woods gives me a sense of freedom that I can't have inside its oppressive fence. That's why I accompany him. Yes, he's my best friend, but the time we spend together at school is not as rewarding as that we spend in the woods. Of course, the peacekeepers are here to remind us that we have to come back at some point.

"What were you saying when you stopped?" I ask Henry under my breath. I don't want the peacekeepers who stands further back to overhear our conversation.

"Nothing important," he answers whispering, without looking at me.

"No, no, you were talking about Ambra…" I insist.

"I was just saying that if I were you, I would have gone to the chess tournament."

"Why? It's so boring!"

"But it's important for your sister," he points out.

"She's never interested in what I like, so why should I?" I reply, annoyed.

"Well, tomorrow there will be the Reaping, she might be… you told me she had to sign up for tesserae last month…"

"I see your point," I interrupt him "But I can't pretend to get along with her just because she did that. After our father abandoned us, everyone has made sacrifices."

"She's still your sister, Georgie. I'm an only child, but I'd like to have a sibling. When I told that to my parents, do you know what they answered? That they were too afraid of the Reaping, that they didn't want to increase the chances of seeing their children reaped. That is to say that you're lucky to have a sister, Georgie, and you shouldn't take her for granted."

"You're too negative, Henry. Our situation is heavenly compared to that of the majority of Three. The odds are definitely in our favour."

"I'm _realistic_, Georgie," he corrects me "No one can tell what may happen at the Reaping."

…...

_The day before the Reaping_

_Ambra Clares (16)- Citizen of District 3_

My opponent is watching the chessboard with resigned eyes. He knows that he's doomed, he has fallen into my trap. He makes his move, then it's my turn. "Checkmate!" I say, victorious.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the 5th chess tournament is Ambra Clares!" announces the president of the chess club on the mic.

The crowd cheers. The president shakes my hand. "Congratulations, Mrs. Clares. You played a really good game," he compliments me.

"Thanks," I reply, smiling.

He gives me a cockade and an envelope. Inside, there's a little amount of money. I love playing chess, but money is always money. Mom is doing all she can to support our family, she certainly appreciates extra help.

I find her waiting for me outside the chess club.

"Mom! I thought you were still at work!" I say, hugging her. I'm so happy to see her that I can allow myself a cuddle.

"Mrs. Thatcher has given me the rest of the day off. I couldn't not come see you, dearie, especially after what happened last year," she replies, patting my head.

I nod. I won the chess tournament also last year, but nobody came to see me, so, while I was coming back home, a group of hooded guys attacked me and stole the envelope with the money. They didn't do anything to me, just stole the money. I couldn't find out who they were, after all such episodes are the order of the day in Three. There's too much social inequality.

My mother shakes her head. "Sorry, I shouldn't bring back bad memories. I'm proud of you, Ambra, you're a great chess player!" she says.

"It's all a matter of strategy, mom. Sometimes you need to sacrifice some pieces in order to win."

"Ok, you'll tell me all the details later. Now, let's go home. Given that I have more time than usual, I could cook something special for dinner to celebrate your victory!"

"Sounds good to me!"

While we're heading home, I start looking around, nervous. I hope the hooded guys of last year won't dare to attack us. Perhaps they were there by chance, but a little voice in the back of my head says that they were keeping tabs on me. They knew I had the money and went out on point.

"Where's Georgiana?" I ask mom, willing to dispel these negative thoughts.

"She's with Henry. I told her to come to the tournament, but there was no way to convince her. You know how stubborn she is. I'm sorry, Ambra, I know you would have liked her to be there with you," she answers.

Henry Almonds is the son of our neighbours, who run an apothecary. He's the same age of my sister Georgiana. Evidently, she prefers her friend over her sister. But I shouldn't be surprised. I know they're very close, in addition I'm pretty sure that Henry has feelings for Georgiana, even if she may not return them. The truth is that we don't get along with each other and, after our father remarried, our relationship has even got worse. He divorced mom because she's always at work. Well, being the mayor's personal secretary involves responsibilities and irregular schedules. That's no good reason to leave your family, but I can understand his reasons. He must have felt neglected. However, Georgiana is not willing to forgive him, whereas I'm more diplomatic. That's another breaking point between us.

"It's all right, mom, I knew Georgiana wouldn't come," I say.

Luckily, we get home without incident. I lay the table, while my mother is cooking dinner. From the smell, I can tell that she's making her delicious omelette with peppers. My mouth is already watering.

"How was work?" I ask her.

"Well, the same thing. Molly do this, Molly do that… you know, Mrs. Thatcher is quite an authoritarian woman. She wouldn't be the mayor of District 3, otherwise," she answers.

"But it was kind of her… I mean, giving you the rest of the day off," I point out.

"You're right. I didn't expect that. She said that she wants me to spend more time with my family."

Because of the divorce? Was she referring to that? Or because the Reaping is tomorrow? The mayor certainly knows that I signed up for tesserae last month. The divorce has been expensive. My mother cannot forgive herself for letting me do that. She has asked her boss to work overtime, because she doesn't want that to happen again. In any case, I have three additional slips with my name on them in the Reaping ball now. It makes eight altogether. Eight out of thousands. I know the percentage is small, but I can't help worrying. What if I was reaped? What chances would I have to win? I already know the answer: almost none. I'm not a Career, and I live in District 3. Our tributes rarely make that far.

My thoughts are interrupted by my sister's arrival.

"Oh, it was time you got home, Georgie! Is everything okay?" says my mother.

"I'm fine, mom," replies my sister, sitting at the table. "Did you win, Ambra?" she asks me.

"Yep," I answer.

"Congratulations," she says with a bored tone.

"Thank you. How was your day?"

"I helped Henry to gather some plants for the apothecary. That was the only noteworthy event of today."

"Georgiana! Your sister won the chess tournament, don't you think it is noteworthy?" my mother chimes in.

"Yeah, also that," she replies.

I don't want to argue with her, so I remain silent for the whole dinner. After it's over, I retire to my room. I flop down on my bed without changing my clothes. I start sobbing, burying my head in the pillow, so that no one can hear me cry. Why does my sister behave like that? Do I really count nothing to her? I think again about the Reaping of tomorrow. If I was reaped, how would she react? Would she be sad for me? Perhaps she wouldn't miss me at all. But my parents would suffer, that's for sure. I try to relax, to clear my mind, but even the idea of thinking of nothing is actually stressful. Anyway, don't know when, I'm finally able to drift off at some point.

…...

_Present day_

_Henry Almonds (14)- Citizen of District 3_

I wake up early, and decide to stay in bed for a while. No school today. I don't mind having a day off, but at school I have something to do to pass the time, at least. There are some subjects that I really like. Chemistry for instance. Sometimes, I'd like to live in District 7, its education is certainly more interesting than that of Three, where we're taught all that boring stuff about technology and electronics. I really can't get it! I like imagining the vast forest of District 7, the green district. There are the woods outside Three, but they aren't vast… at least they don't look so, to be sincere I've never been allowed to walk away too much from the fence.

"Henry? Are you awake? We need to get ready for the Reaping!" says my mother, knocking at my door.

I snort. "Yes, ma'," I reply.

_Thank you for reminding me of the hateful Reaping!_ I get up and dress. I've already chosen my outfit: plaid shirt, overalls and booties. I look like a real lumberjack of Seven. Don't know why, but in my mind lumberjacks always wear plaid shirts, overalls and booties. But maybe it's just an invention of mine.

I have breakfast with my parents in the kitchen. We live all on the one floor, in a small flat above our apothecary. The apothecary is our life. One day, I will inherit it. I can't imagine a better job.

"We'd better not take our time, even if we don't live far away. We won't find a good place to see the ceremony, otherwise," says my father, crunching his French toast. In fact, our apothecary stands on a side street to the main square.

"Are you nervous, Henry?" asks my mother.

"I've got only three slips. I'm as safe as I can be," I point out.

"Many people cannot say the same. Don't worry, son, everything's gonna be okay," says my father, but he doesn't sound very convinced.

We head to the square straight after breakfast. The place is already chock-a-block.

"Good luck, Henry," says my mother, hugging me.

"See you later," says my father, putting his hand on my shoulder.

They have both a worried smile on their faces.

"Hey, it won't take long. After the Reaping is over, we could do something together… have a walk or play a board game. What do you think?" I say with a wide smile, trying to sound calm.

Actually, I can feel all my limbs shaking with fear, but I don't want them to worry more than is necessary.

"We'd love to," replies my mother.

I part from my parents and head to the roped area reserved to those of Reaping age. I sign in and reach the fourteen-year-old section. Georgie is already there with a bored expression on her face. How can she be so detached? I admire her hard for this… and not only for this. I wonder if I should tell her about my sentiments with the Reaping looming over us. No, maybe I should wait till we turn eighteen, when we'll be out of harm's way. But what if she fell in love with someone else in the meantime? Ah, I shouldn't think about that now!

"Hi, Henry," Georgie greets me. Her hazel eyes light up.

"Hi," I greet her back.

"Nervous?"

"Who wouldn't be?"

She just smiles in response. Her smile makes me relax a bit. With only three slips in the Reaping ball, my situation is not that bad. In the meantime, the ceremony has started. Charlotte Thatcher, the mayor of District 3, mounts the stage and pokes the mic to draw the attention of the crowd. She's a rather serious woman, in her forties, even if the grey clothes that she's used to wearing make her look older.

"Good morning, District 3. Today we honour the sacrifice of our youths, who remind us that we must be grateful for what we're given, because what we're given can also be taken," she says, solemn.

She reads the Treaty of Treason with the same solemnity. It's clear that she truly believes in what she's reading. But I'm not surprised. After the war, the Capitol has certainly made sure mayors are loyal to them. When Mrs. Thatcher has finished reading, the escort mounts the stage- a flamboyant woman in a broad, colourful dress. She watches the mayor from top to toe. Her appearance is the exact opposite of the mayor's grey countenance. The scene is almost funny.

"Thank you, Mrs. Thatcher, for your inspiring discourse. Now, let's go down to business! Shall we start with the boys just for a change?" she says in her Capitolite accent. The crowd doesn't react.

"Henry Almonds!"

When my name is called, Georgie grabs my hand. Her hazel eyes are widened with terror. "Please, don't go," she whispers, teary.

But I have to. My feet move towards the stage without me realizing it. In no time, I'm standing beside the escort, who smiles cheerfully. Her teeth are so unnaturally white.

"Oh, what a lovely boy! Looks like someone has chosen to use some colour, finally! Does anyone want to volunteer?" asks the escort, but no one answers.

I'm looking in the general direction of the crowd, but my eyes are actually staring blankly. It's like being hypnotized. I'm here on the stage, but I feel nothing. I don't even notice that the escort has pulled out a slip of paper from the girls' ball.

"Ambra Clares!"

I stare at Ambra, while she's mounting the stage with a resigned expression on her face. Her hazel eyes- like those of her sister- are unblinking. She's fidgeting with her long dark hair... she's trying to calm down, I suppose.

"Any volunteer?" asks the escort. This question is useless in an outer district. No one would ever volunteer to walk into a certain death.

"Very well, then! A round of applause for the tributes of District 3, Henry Almonds and Ambra Clares! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

As soon as I enter the waiting room, I sit on one of the soft couches. I look around. The waiting room is as grey as the rest of the Justice Building. The only noteworthy thing is the giant map of Panem drawn on the wall. I stand up to watch it closer. There is the Capitol and all the districts with their seals. On that of District 3, you can see a factory and cogwheels. District 3, technology. With my fingers, I start tracing imaginary routes on the map. I'd like to be anywhere but here.

I hear the door open. I turn around and see my parents in tears. My mother hugs me tight.

"My son! My son! You're too young to die! That's unfair!" she says, sobbing.

"Don't give up on him, Linda. Our son is strong, aren't you, Henry?" replies my father, wiping his tears away.

I break the embrace. "I'll do my best," I say. I want so badly to cry, but I know that I must keep my cool. I can't be targeted as a weakling before the Games start.

My parents look at each other, then my father pulls out something from the pocket of his jacket. It's a spherical vial tied to a twine as a pendant. Inside, there's a purple flower dipped in formaldehyde.

"It's safflower. A peacekeeper from another district gave it to me years ago," he explains.

But I know better. That's _not_ safflower, although it is very similar to it. Certainly, my father knows it. That's _colchicum autmnale_, also known as fake safflower. You can recognize it by the number of stamens, six over the three ones of safflower. But the most significant difference between them is that while safflower is edible, this one is poisonous. Practically, my father is giving me a deadly weapon. My blood turns cold in my veins at the thought. But why lying to me? Why telling me that's safflower? He certainly knows that I'm not buying it. Then, a thought hits me. The cameras! We may be on camera right now! But I avoid looking around not to raise suspicions. If the Capitol knew that this flower is so dangerous, my parents could be punished.

After they leave the room, Georgie comes to visit me. She hugs me, teary.

"Oh, Henry! I don't want to lose you! You're my best friend!" she says. _Just best friend? Just best friend?_ My heart sinks.

"I'll do my best to survive," I say, swallowing hardly.

But I know what my survival would mean. If I won, her sister would die. Would she forgive me for letting her die?

"How's Ambra?" I ask her, breaking the embrace. I want to think about something else.

"She'll be fine. If you want to ally with her, I'm sure she'd agree," Georgie answers with a sad smile.

"Guess that's the best strategy."

We pass the rest of the time in silence, sat on the couches. Georgie holds my hand the whole time. I want to cry, to tell her that she's more than a friend to me. But I hold back. It would be useless, it would be painful for both of us. Only when I'm left alone, I break down.

…...

_Ambra Clares (16)- District 3 female tribute_

Eight slips out of thousands. It was destiny, evidently. I want to scream, but what for? Georgiana is safe, at least. But for how long? Victory or not, her life will be still at stake next year. I shake my head. Now I'm a tribute, I must think only about my survival. I must think as a tribute. First of all, please the audience. Secondly, find capable allies. The rest will follow. I'm from District 3, it won't be easy. I could ask Henry for a start. At least, we fight for the same district.

My mother and Georgiana come to visit me first.

"Ambra, dearie! It's… it's all my fault! I shouldn't have let you sign up for tesserae!" says my mother, with tears flooding from her eyes.

I shake my head. "It's not your fault. Perhaps, it would have happened anyway," I say, hardly repressing my tears.

"Promise me that you'll do your best, that… that you'll fight hard to come back!"

"I promise."

Then, my sister Georgiana gets close to me. "I've got a present for you, Ambra," she says, sobbing.

She gives me the cockade of the chess tournament. "To remind you that you're a winner, that you've got someone to come home for!" she goes on.

She's not able to hold back any longer and hugs me. I burst into tears. "Thank you, Georgie. I'll keep that in mind," I say.

My father comes next. He immediately hugs me. He doesn't say anything, just hugs me, shaking. Does he feel guilty because I took out tesserae to help mom after their divorce? Or is he simply sad for me?

When he breaks the embrace, I watch him, waiting for an answer. Since it doesn't come, I take the word first. "I didn't expect to see you," I tell him.

"You're still my daughter, Ambra, I will always love you, no matter what happens," he replies.

"Thank you."

We sit on the couches. He starts talking about the past, when we were still a united family. He says that even though he has a new wife now, he'll always look after us.

"Take care of Georgiana and mom. I'll be away for a while… maybe forever," I say.

"You'll come back, Ambra! I know you can! Is that understood?" he rebuts, watching me right in the eye.

A peacekeeper enters. "Time's up!" he shouts, and yanks my father away before I could hug him one last time.

"I'll do my best," I whisper to myself, when I'm left alone.

* * *

**So, another Reaping is done. The friend zone hurts, doesn't it? Poor Henry! But at least he has an ace up his sleeve, and Ambra found out that her sister loves her. What do you think of this chapter? If you were Henry, would you confess your feelings for Georgie? **

**Thank you for reading :)**


	6. D4: the Mermaid and the Distant Brother

_Last year_

_Necton Algeus (16)- Citizen of District 4_

A starry night has fallen over District 4. Another Reaping has gone, and none of our company has been affected. As usual, we celebrate by having a sea water bath. Our lives in Four are already wonderful, why should we risk them in the Games just to become richer? Our families are well-off enough, and here in Four we have something that even Capitolites envy us: the sea. I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world, neither for a luxurious life in the Capitol.

"Necton! Hurry up! The water is wonderful!" shouts Tamara.

She's my girlfriend, or at least she's supposed to be so. The truth is that our parents are good friends, and they would certainly approve an union between our two families. Tamara is not bad, she's just a bit naïve… but she's only fourteen after all, I'm sure she'll grow. We have known each other since childhood, and I've always felt the need to protect her.

I join Tamara, and kiss her gently on her salty lips. Our friends are used to such public affection, and see nothing wrong with that. Why should we hide, after all? We're part of the wealthiest youth of District 4, people are just envious of us… like Hector, the old fisher, who loses no opportunity to call me and my company _taugenichts_\- a word that means layabouts, apparently. But we couldn't care the less about his comments. If he was born in a poor family, it's not our fault.

"We could swim till the caves," I offer.

"Great idea, Necton!" says Tamara.

Some years ago, we discovered a series of caves in a promontory. We haven't explored them all, because some are partially submerged. Given that the promontory is at the edge of the sea, reaching it from the land is difficult, so we always swim to it. It's such an isolated place, perfect to spend some time with your friends. There's also a nice shore nearby. We couldn't ask for more. We get into the outer cave. There, we have hidden some wood, so that we can start a fire. Around its beautiful roaring flames, no secret should be kept. In fact, we have agreed not to hide anything from one another, and when something important must be revealed, we all meet at the caves. But tonight we're here only to celebrate our luck. We sit around the fire while Liam- the storyteller of our company- starts telling a scary story about mermaids, who use their melodious voices to lure sailors to their deaths, making their ships smash into the rocks.

"And then they eat the eyes of those poor sailors… human eyes are said to be delicious to them, especially blue ones," says Liam, approaching Tamara.

"What!?" she shouts, frightened.

"Liam is just joking, Tamara. Mermaids don't eat human eyes, they don't even exist," I say, laughing.

"Are you sure they don't exist, Necton?" he asks me.

"Yes, I am, Liam. You're not going to tell me that you've met a real mermaid, are you?"

"Well, I haven't met a mermaid yet, but I saw one swim in the Great Depth some days ago," he replies.

The Great Depth is a pool that is located in one of the caves. We've nicknamed it so because, despite being all expert swimmers, nobody has been able to reach its bottom. We have only assumed that it must be linked to sea somehow, since the water is salty.

"Oh, really? Why are you still alive, then?" I continue, teasing him.

Everyone knows that Liam loves inventing stories, so we usually play along.

"I'm telling the truth, Necton. I saw a long fishtail that was green like an emerald!" he rebuts. He sounds sincere.

"It was just a fish, Liam, give it a rest," I say, bored.

Now he's exaggerating. Inventing a story is one thing, but believing that fantastic beings like mermaids truly exist is insane.

"Why don't you go and check yourself? Or maybe you're afraid…" he says, defiant.

"Do you wanna bet, Liam?"

"Sure! The loser will have his head shaved!"

The rest of the company says "uhhh". Everyone knows how much I'm proud of my flowing, brown hair. We move to the edge of the Great Depth. We're all staring in its dark waters, when Tamara shouts: "There!" and points the water with her trembling hand.

I look in that direction and… I can't believe it! There's something moving in the water! I can't figure out what it is because of the darkness, but Liam was right, he really saw something that day!

"See?" he says.

"It doesn't prove anything. Now, I want to find out what that thing is!" I reply.

"Maybe you shouldn't do it, Necton, it might be dangerous…" says Tamara, holding my arm.

But it's too late. I'm too curious to give up. I jump in the water, which is colder than I expected. I chase the thing. At some point, it gets in a sort of tunnel, from which a feeble light comes. My vision starts to blur, and I can feel my lungs tightening in desperate need of oxygen, but I continue the chase, nonetheless. Eventually, I reemerge in a little cave, panting and with burning cheeks. The light comes from a hole in the rock that looks into the night sky. While I'm still trying to recover, I realize that I'm not alone. In the half-light of the cave, I spot a beautiful girl with tanned skin, auburn hair, and stunning, green eyes… and she has a fishtail like a mermaid!

"You… you're a mermaid!" I manage to say.

She bursts out laughing. "Do you really think I'm a real mermaid!?" she replies, still laughing.

She takes off the fishtail. "Look! Two legs!" she continues, amused.

I feel so stupid! "Why do you dress up like a mermaid?" I ask her.

She stares at me, as if deciding whether I deserve an answer or not. "I love diving and feeling like I'm part of the underwater world. And what about you? Why do you like chasing mermaids?"

"I was just curious," I answer, annoyed.

"But you could have died."

"I'm an expert swimmer."

"How have you found these caves? By "you", I mean you and your friends."

"You ask too many questions, little mermaid, and I don't even know who you are," I point out.

"Vivian, Vivi for short," she replies with a smirk.

"I'm Necton. Well, Vivi, I've found out this place with my friends, we're a company and… oh, my goodness! My friends are still waiting for me in the other cave!"

I'm about to dive again, but Vivian stops me. "Not so soon, man! You need to catch your breath. The first rule for a good dive is making your heartbeat decrease. You're still too agitated," she says, touching my chest with her gentle hands.

"But they're certainly worried, especially Tamara!" I reply.

"Who's Tamara?" asks Vivian with a frown.

"She's my girlfriend… she's only fourteen, I don't want to scare her to death!"

"I'm sure she'll understand, Necton. If we take our time, it's only for our own sake," she says, watching me right in the eye.

Her eyes are so wonderfully deep that I could get lost in them.

…...

_Some weeks before the Reaping_

_Thalas Marsh (26)- Victor of the 91__st__ Hunger Games_

I look at my reflection in the mirror. I must check if I've put on the blue hair dye well. Apparently yes. I have it sent right from the Capitol, because in District 4 blue hair dyes don't exist. Actually, everybody knows my passion for this colour, especially Capitolite hairdressers. I wear only blue clothes, my house in Victor's Village is all blue, my eyes are naturally blue like the ocean, luckily. Everything in order to forget the scorching canyon of the arena. It's a miracle that a boy from Four could survive in that inferno. Sometimes, my slumber is still haunted by horrible nightmares. I see myself try to drink water from a pond, but then I find out that the pond is made of blood… and I wake up, panting and dripping with sweat. The sight of the turquois walls of my room with their sea-like patterns soothes me. The colour blue reminds me that I'm safe, that I'm at home in District 4, the district surrounded by the endless sea.

I hear someone knock at the front door and open it. It's Oliver, the mayor's son. He's panting, his eyes are widened and reddish. Clearly, he has wept.

"Ollie! What's up?" I ask him, worried.

"May I come in?"

"Of course!" I say and step aside to let him in. We sit down in my living room, and I offer him a glass of fresh lemonade, which he drinks in only one shot.

"What has happened?" I ask him.

"I've been adopted. My father was scolding me and said that I'm not his son," he answers, without looking at me.

"What else did he say?"

"He didn't want to talk, at first, but I begged him. I needed to know the truth! So, he told me the whole story. My parents were two rebels. Fifteen years ago, they tried to fuel a new rebellion but were executed. I was adopted by the mayor, who passed me off as his son, because he wanted to hide the shame of having a barren wife," he explains, teary.

I approach Oliver, trying to comfort him. "Ollie, your parents love you and…" I say, but he interrupts me: "They are _not _my parents!"

"They're your parents, because they've looked after you regardless of your origins! Otherwise, you could have ended up in one of those dreadful community homes, or worse, you could have died! No one knew that your real parents had children!" I rebut, raising my voice.

I lost my parents during the war and, since they were close friends with the mayor's family, he and his wife decided to look after me… until I won the Games and had to move to Victor's Village alone, because I'm not related to the mayor. In any case, his family gave me everything I needed, love and shelter… so I don't like it when their kindness is questioned, especially by Oliver, who I consider as a brother.

"You knew that I wasn't their son, then! What else have you all hidden from me?" says Oliver, unbelieving.

I bite my lip. "Your parents didn't want to tell you the truth to protect you," I say.

"Answer my question, Thalas! What else have you all hidden from me?"

"It's not up to me…"

"Speak, Thalas! I'll find it out, anyway!"

"Very well, then. You have a twin sister, Oliver," I say, sighing.

At first, he doesn't react. He just gazes at me, unable to speak. "Where… where is she?" he manages to ask, eventually.

"After the war, President Smith has launched the so called Repopulation Project. It consists of sending people to the districts where the population rate has plunged the most due to the war. It has involved mainly homeless people and orphans, and it's still in force… because of this project, your sister lives in District 12, now," I explain.

"What? Why? Why wasn't she adopted with me? Why did they separate us?"

"Your sister… your sister suffers from asthma… your parents didn't want…" I stammer.

"They didn't want a sick daughter, did they? And they sent her to the mining district!? With her asthma!? Do you approve their decision even in this case, Thalas?" he shouts, beside himself.

"Calm down, Oliver. I do not approve their decision. But, believe me, they made sure a wealthy family adopted her, so that her asthma could be kept at bay."

"And do you know the name of this family? Do you know how my sister was named?"

"Yes, I do, but knowing it won't help you, she lives in another district!"

"Thalas…"

I sigh, resigned. "Yolanda Underwood."

…...

_Present day_

_Vivian "Vivi" Tide (18)- Citizen of District 4_

The sunlight that penetrates through the old planks of wood of the shack wakes me up. I stretch a bit. I'll never get used to sleeping on this uncomfortable, dusty floor. I look around. This old shack has been my house for years, since the fishing boat of my family has sunk during a seaquake, dragging my parents down with it. I had to run away from home, otherwise I'd have ended up in a community home. Once, this shack was a tool shed, but now it is abandoned. Here, I found the mermaid tail. I wonder how long will those planks withstand before bringing the whole building down on me. But it won't happen today. In any case, I can't think about that now. Today, there's my last Reaping, my last chance to change things.

I start a little fire outside my shack to cook the fish I managed to catch last night. I've let it soak in salty water to preserve it. It gonna be my breakfast. After I finish eating, I wear the short, light blue dress and flats Necton bought me. We got engaged last year, but I've never told him about my predicament. He would certainly think that I'm an opportunist, and split up with me. But if things turn out right for me, I won't need his charity any longer. I've been able to survive on the streets even without his help. I'm afraid of nothing.

I take a moment to watch the sea before heading town. The noise of the undertow relaxes me. It's like the sea was calling me with its voice. In the distance, I can see the promontory where my cave stands. Suddenly, I feel a knot in my throat. Whatever happens, I'll miss that place.

The main square is slowly filling with people. Someone stares at me. Dressed like that, I'm unrecognizable. In any case, only few people know who I am, the girl who lives in a shack on the beach. Above all, I'm notorious for being a skilled thief. When you end up in a situation like mine, you've got limited options to survive… one worse than another, so you choose the least bad. I could have become a prostitute, but sincerely I prefer stealing to live rather than selling my body. I head to the front row, and wait for the Reaping to start. I spot Necton in the seventeen-year-old section. He smiles and waves to me. I smile back. He had to cut his hair because of a bet with one of his friends… or, rather, ex-friends. His company hasn't taken well the fact that he has chosen me over Tamara. Anyway, his hair has grown, but they aren't as long and flowing as when I met him for the first time... to his great disappointment.

The crowd is murmuring about the possible tributes of this year. Even when the mayor mounts the stage, there's still someone who's speaking. But I'm not surprised. Mayor Litore is a spineless man, who certainly is neither feared nor respected. Everyone in Four knows that the true authority is his brother, Leif Litore, the Head Peacekeeper, who is now scanning the crowd with his cold, grey eyes from above the stage, where he's sitting beside the past victors of District 4. In the meantime, the mayor is making a useless speech about how much our district is important for the livelihood of Panem. The crowd falls finally silent only when the escort from the Capitol makes his appearance, meaning that the most important part of the Reaping is about to begin. The escort is wearing one of the most ridiculous costumes that I've ever seen. It's a blue gown with a sort of fishing net over it. There are also some fish puppets trapped in the net. If it wasn't for the Reaping, I would burst out laughing.

The escort pulls out a slip of paper from the girls' ball. "Tamara Rivers!"

Necton's ex-girlfriend! I watch her while she's mounting the stage. She's crying, her body is shaking like a leaf. What did Necton find in her?

"Any volunteer?" asks the escort.

"I volunteer!" I shout.

"Lovely! What's your name?"

"Vivian Tide, Vivi for friends," I answer with a wide smile.

"Nice to meet you, Vivi. Now, let's call your district partner! The lucky one is… Oliver Litore!"

A boy emerges from the fifteen-year-old section. Curly, red hair, blue eyes, freckled cheeks… but I recognize him by his name. He's the mayor's son!

"Does anyone want to volunteer?" asks the escort, but no one answers. No one would ever volunteer for the mayor's son.

"Very well, then! These are the tributes of District 4: Vivian Tide and Oliver Litore! Shake hands, you two! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

I shake hands with Oliver. By his resigned expression, I can tell that he's already waiting for death. He won't be a good ally. We get inside the Justice Building, then we're assigned a separate room for visitors. I've never be there before. The walls of the waiting room are full of drawings of different species of aquatic animals, mainly fishes. But for the rest, it's almost devoid of furniture, except for a couple of dark blue couches.

I'm visited by Necton. He immediately hugs me.

"Thank you for saving Tamara," he says.

I break his embrace abruptly. "Do you really think I did it to save her?" I reply.

He watches me with a frown. "What should I think otherwise?" he asks.

"I volunteered because I _want _to be in the Games," I answer.

"You never told me that! You know what I think of the Hunger Games!"

"I don't care, Necton. That's what I want."

"And do you care about me… about my feelings? I wanted a life with you, Vivian!" he rebuts, angry.

"Are you already giving up on me, Necton? The Games aren't over yet," I say, shaking my head in fake disappointment.

"Why do you want to risk your life? For fame? For money? The money of the Capitol won't make you happier!"

"It's easy to talk like that when you're rich. Your only concern is thinking about how to spend your time before going to bed," I reply, starting to get bored of this conversation.

"If you have money problems, you could have told me! You know I would have helped you!" says Necton.

"No, you wouldn't. I can see how you look at poor people, you dislike them. Besides, I don't need your charity, I've survived on my own this long," I say, watching him right in the eye.

"But you've accepted my gifts," he replies, pointing to my dress and shoes.

"To be polite."

"You don't love me, do you?"

I remain silent. I don't know what to say. _I love you _would sound like a lie to him, _I don't love you _would sound cruel to me.

"Okay, your silence is eloquent," he states, eventually.

"Necton…" I say, but he has already left the room.

…...

_Oliver "Ollie" Litore (15)- District 4 male tribute_

Before being left alone in the waiting room, I tell the peacekeeper at the door that I don't want to get any visits. Listening to stupid discourses about how unfair the Reaping is would be useless. I don't want to see anyone cry for my fate. I've got only one regret… that I couldn't get to know my sister Yolanda. Probably, she doesn't even know of my existence… but she will, I'll tell the truth in front of the whole Panem! Besides, she's the only person with whom I'd like to have anything to do. The others I used to trust, Thalas and my parents… no, not my parents, the mayor and his wife… they have all proved to be cowards and traitors. As for friends, people say I'm too rebellious to have any. But my true parents were two rebels too, the apple never rots far from the tree, I suppose.

I clench my fists. Being forced to wait here is nerve-racking. I want to get on that train right now! I need to blow off some steam, I'm about to explode. I start kicking the couches of the waiting room with growing violence. I'm too angry to feel pain. At some point, two peacekeepers followed by my uncle intervene to hold me.

"No! Let me go! I hate you! I hate you all!" I shout, beside myself.

My uncle stares at me with his cold, grey eyes… there's contempt in his eyes, he has never been able to stand me, and now I understand why. The son of two rebels raised as a privileged boy… it must have been an unbearable idea to him.

"You'd better hold your tongue about your past," he says.

"Is that a threat?" I reply, defiant.

He slaps me. "Don't say a word! You're like your parents, a mindless reactionary!"

"I'll take that as a compliment, then."

"If you do something stupid, I'll tell my friends in the Capitol…"

I burst out laughing. "Your friends in the Capitol!? How would they react if they knew you dared to hit me, one of their beloved tributes? I'm a tribute now, you cannot touch me!"

"You…"

But he doesn't get the chance of finishing his sentence, because another peacekeeper enters the room to inform me that the train is about to leave. My uncle orders his men to release me, so that I can leave the Justice Building with a satisfied smirk on my face.

* * *

**So, the tributes of District 4 are Vivian Tide and Oliver Litore. They're not typical Careers and have both a complicated story behind them, so do you think they should join the pack? Let me know what you think in your reviews! Thank you for reading :)**

**I'm a bit busy this week and also the next one, so I don't know when I'll update again. Sorry, bear with me.**


	7. D5: the Orphan and the Dam Worker

**Hi! I've finally been able to finish this chapter, sorry for making you wait. But before we go down to it, I'd like to know how you find this story so far. For my first HG fanfic, I've decided to create my own tributes instead of writing a SYOT. Do you think it works? Would you like me to write a SYOT? Be it positive or negative, readers' feedback is important to me, so let me know what you think, please.**

**And now, here's the Reaping of District 5. Enjoy your reading :)**

* * *

_Last year_

_Amanda Thunder (15)- District 5 female tribute_

"Amanda Thunder!"

When the escort calls my name, I can't believe it, at first. A peacekeeper has to drag me out of my section, because I can't move a bit. I'm scared stiff. Only when I mount the stage, I realize what's happening. I've been reaped for the Hunger Games. I'm going to die soon. Tears start to stream down on my face without me wanting it. In the meantime, the escort has called the name of my district partner, but I can't hear a word. It's like I've suddenly gone deaf. I shake hands with my fellow tribute. I can see the same terror that I have in his eyes. Two scared tributes led to slaughter, what hope do we have?

As soon as I'm left alone in the waiting room, I keel over on one of the couches. _Send us in the arena and let's just end it!_ I keep repeating to myself. I don't expect to get any visits, who would come to say goodbye to an unwanted child, who has spent all her life in a dreadful community home? But I'm wrong. I do get a visit. I look up and see Rhonda standing in the doorway. Rhonda, the only person willing to be my friend, the only one who's patient enough to bear my terrible temper.

She hugs me, burying her head in my lap. She's sobbing, her body is shaking like a leaf. I stroke her curly, dark hair.

"Why did you come, Rhonda?" I ask her.

"You're my best friend! I had to see you!" she answers, teary.

I nod. "Thank you."

"I've got something for you," she adds. She gives me her pearl bracelet. It is not made of real pearls but of colourful, plastic beads. However, she keeps it as the most precious treasure.

"Your bracelet, Rhonda? I can't accept it!" I say.

"Bring it back to me," she replies, putting it on my wrist.

"Rhonda…"

"You've taught me to keep my chin up whatever happens, because life is cruel… and that… and that one should never lose hope of having a better future. This bracelet will remind you of that," she says.

I wipe away my tears, suddenly ashamed of my weakness. I've always been Rhonda's gold standard, I've promised myself to be strong for her… but today she has seen me cry, she has seen me weak. It won't happen again!

"Your gift is even more welcome, then. I'll do my best to come back, I know I'll see you again, Rhonda," I reply, hugging her.

"That's my Amanda! Never lose hope! Indeed… you know what? I've chosen my surname for the Reaping!"

Orphans like Rhonda rarely have a family name. When they turn twelve, they're assigned one randomly, or they can choose it themselves, since there must be your name and surname in your entries for the Reaping. Rhonda is just eleven, but next year she'll be eligible for the Games, so she will need a complete name.

"Really?"

"Hope… from now on, my name will be Rhonda Hope."

…...

_The day before the Reaping_

_Cliff Wells (14)- Citizen of District 5_

At dusk, I can finally go home. There's no part of my body that does not ache. Working as a maintenance man in a dam is a hard job, you're responsible for a structure that has to produce electricity not only for your district, but for the whole Panem, especially for the Capitol. Actually, District 5 is dotted by dams, but mine… I mean, the dam I work in is one of the oldest. My family has worked there for five generations.

"Timur! I'm home!" I say, but receive no answer.

Where's my brother? He should have got home by now! I snort. I lay the table for dinner, so that my parents have one less thing to do when they return from work. I look forward to having a shower and changing these dirty clothes! From the window of the kitchen, I can see my brother greet two girls who I don't know, and then enter the house.

"Hi, Cliff! How was your day?" he asks me, happy.

"Who are those girls?" I answer with another question.

"Oh, Cliff, you're too young to think about girls!"

"Answer my question!" I say, annoyed.

Giving orders to him sounds weird. Timur is three years older than me, but he's definitely a free spirit, who would like to live without rules. But that's impossible.

"They're just two friends. I've met them today for the first time, you know, during the school trip to the dam where our parents work," he explains.

"I work there too," I point out.

Timur goes still to school, whereas I had to drop it because I couldn't pass the test to access the upper class. The selection is really hard. Only the best students can access the upper classes and find the best jobs. Timur has always been well-suited to the study, the only problem is that he's so listless. Our parents have done anything to make him apply. They've always wanted that at least one of their sons could study and have a better life. Pointless denying that they have a preference for him. After all, our mother struggled so much to get pregnant that, when Timur was born, it was a great joy. My birth was a joyful event too, but not as joyful as that of the first son.

"Whatever. They're just friends, anyway," he says.

"Well, your fame precedes you…"

"What are you getting at, Cliff?"

Timur is the kind of boy who can be defined as a Latin lover. Tall, slim, blonde hair… but his most noteworthy feature is certainly his eyes, dark and piercing. He has had several girlfriends over the years, but none of his relationships has lasted a long time. Nevertheless, many girls still find him attractive… you can tell it by the way they stare at him when he cannot see them… or, at least, when they think he cannot see them.

"I don't want you to break the heart of another admirer. You're too fickle, Timur," I say.

"Oh, now I see what you are getting at… my little brother is envious!" he replies with a smile, messing up my hair.

"Stop it!" I complain.

"Don't worry, kid, I'll teach you some tricks!"

"I don't want to learn anything from you!"

"There's no need to be so angry," he says, amused. Clearly, he hasn't taken me seriously.

I sigh, trying to calm down. "Since tomorrow is Reaping day, I had to work overtime and I'm really exhausted… all I want is resting a bit. I have no time for your stupid stuff, Timur."

"At least, you did something you like, great worker… I had to go on that boring school trip, instead. I know that these trips right before the Reaping are to lighten the mood, but they could arrange for something more interesting, couldn't they?" he replies.

I clench my fists. I do like my job, but how can he compare my hard work and a school trip? Besides, he should appreciate his luck… he should be grateful, because he has been given the possibility to study and have a better future compared to the rest of our family! But he cannot understand it, why? Why is it all a game to him?

"Is everything ok, Cliff?" Timur asks me, seeing that I keep quiet.

"You're so silly, Timur," I say, watching him right in the eye.

"What's wrong now?" he replies, squinting. He doesn't sound offended, though.

I hold his gaze. "Everything has always come easy to you, Timur, but has it ever occurred to you that someone might have made sacrifices to get you where you are now?"

My voice is angry and slightly quivering.

"What do you mean? I've always made efforts to live up to everyone's expectations! Don't believe it's that easy!" he rebuts, starting to get annoyed.

"Don't play the victim!"

"Like you do, Cliff?"

"What!? I've never done it!"

"Oh, Cliff, you're are the poor brother who couldn't continue his studies and had to find a job, you're the one who works hard for our family… isn't that familiar to you?" he says, bored.

"You've got no right to…"

"All I know is that I'm not going to be taught how to live in this world by my little brother," he affirms, and then goes outside.

"Where are you going?" I yell at him from the window.

"I'm going for a walk… or do you think it's too silly?"

…...

_Present day_

_Rhonda Hope (12)- Citizen of District 5_

I wake up, screaming. I had another nightmare. My roommates gather around my bed, trying to comfort me. Bet there's very little they can do; the Reaping is looming over us all, we're in this together. This gonna be my first Reaping and, despite having only one entry in the girls' ball, I can't help panicking. Our community home counts mainly on tesserae to support itself, but our overseers rarely ask twelve-year-olds to sign up for them, they usually ask the eldest. Actually, we can stay there till we turn eighteen and survive our last Reaping, but then we have to live off the land… unless someone adopts you before, but it happens rarely. Anyway, things are getting better since Amanda won the Hunger Games last year. She has decided to make donations to our community home. Now she's rich, she has her own house in Victor's Village, but hasn't forgotten her origins.

While I'm getting ready for the Reaping, I'm visited precisely by Amanda. Her outfit is quite simple: white T-shirt, black, leather jacket, jeans, and sneakers. I smile when I see her. I like the fact that she hasn't got her head swelled. She has a bundle of papers with her that draws my attention.

"Hi, Amanda!" I greet her happily.

She lays her papers on a table, so that she can hug me tight. "Hi, dearie. How are you?" she greets me.

"Glad to see you, but… I'm a bit nervous… you know, this is my first Reaping and…" I stammer.

"Everything gonna be okay, I promise," she says with a smile, putting her hand on my shoulder. "Now, let's think about something else! I'd like to talk to you in private, if possible…" she adds in a mysterious tone.

I look around. Some of my roommates are still here, waiting for our overseers to take us to the main square. I nod at them, and they leave the room.

"What's up?" I ask Amanda, as soon as we're finally alone.

"I've got great news for you, Rhonda!" she answers, moved.

"Tell me."

"I… I've struggled a lot to get the permission… they said I was too young… but finally… finally, I've got it! I've adopted you, Rhonda, you'll move to my house… to _our _house after the Games!"

At first, I can't believe it. "A-are you sure? You're not joking, are you?" I say with tears flooding from my eyes.

"I'm not joking, dearie! I could never do it! When I'll be back from the Capitol, you'll leave this place forever! I know I should have told you after the Games would be over, but I couldn't wait any longer!" she replies, teary.

I hug her. "No, you did well. I'll be waiting for you more anxiously, then!" I say.

"So will I. I'm not risking my life this time, so you don't need to worry about me."

I break the embrace. "I will always worry about you, Amanda. You should wipe those tears away… what would Capitolites think, if they saw you like that?"

She giggles. "You're right."

Amanda cannot stay too long, because, as a victor, she has to be in the main square before everyone else. After she's gone, I join my roommates in the hall, where all the orphans of the community home are gathering. My roommates would like to know what Amanda told me, but our overseers order us to keep quiet. As usual, the principal makes a speech about how we should behave at the Reaping.

When we get to the main square in front of the Justice Building, I notice that Amanda is already on stage, talking to Leroy Jacobson, the only victor District 5 had for years… at least, since the end of the war. With my heart in my throat, I enter the roped area reserved to those of Reaping age, and reach my section in the back. Doesn't matter where we come from, everyone has the same terrified expression on them. I've seen it thousands of times, but feeling this terror first-hand is a whole other story. My body is shaking like a leaf. I'd like so badly to run away, to flop down on my bed, and sleep for the rest of the day. But I know I can't. Reapings are mandatory, and who disobeys is severely punished. In the meantime, the mayor has started reading the Treaty of Treason. I focus on him, trying to distract.

"… and that's why the Hunger Games exists. It's necessary to remind us that past mistakes should not be made again," he says, finishing his discourse.

After that, Kira Joy- the historical escort of District 5- mounts the stage. She's wearing a jumpsuit of a blinding yellow, the same colour of her wig, high heels, and fake eyelashes. "Hello, District 5! I'm so excited to be back to my favourite district, the lightbulb of Panem!" she chips.

There's something in her tone that tells me she isn't sincere… maybe she has placed too much emphasis on her words, because she sounds like she's playing a part she doesn't like.

"Last year, District 5 was rewarded with a victor, and I'm sure we all hope that this will happen again," she goes on, looking at Amanda, who nods in response. "And now, let's bring up the tributes of this year!"

She starts with the boys this time. "Cliff Wells!"

The reaped boy mounts the stage with a resigned smile on his pale face. He looks like he expected to be called. I don't know him, but I really feel sorry for his fate. Being forced to leave your home, knowing that you might not come back… why is the Capitol so cruel?

In the meantime, the escort has started rummaging in the girls' ball. She hasn't even asked for volunteers. "Rhonda Hope!"

When my name is called, my heart stops. It can't be, there must be a mistake… only one slip, there's no way… the other girls make room for me, but I stand still on the spot. I can't move. A peacekeeper drags me unceremoniously out of my section. I mount the stage while massaging my arm. A bruise has formed on it, since the peacekeeper has hold it too tight. Amanda is staring at me with ill-concealed sorrow and anger.

"Oh, what a wonderful young lady! And you've got an evocative family name! Hope… we all hope you'll prove yourself, dearie!" says the escort, pinching my cheeks.

She composes herself, before going on: "Ahem… ladies and gentlemen, the tributes of District 5! Cliff Wells and Rhonda Hope! As always, happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

I'm assigned a waiting room for visitors. I've never been in the Justice Building before. To be sincere, it has always scared me. Its dark shape looming over the lower buildings surrounding it… it suggests a kind of oppression, a kind of authority over which you're powerless. My roommates visit me. They try to convince me that I stand a chance, since Amanda is my friend, but I know better. Amanda will certainly help me, but once in the arena I'll be at the mercy of the older tributes. What can she do, in the end? What can she do, if I'm attacked? As a mentor, she cannot favour one tribute over the other. As things stand, my best bet is trying to go unnoticed. I was so happy this morning, and now I'm thinking of how to survive…

…...

_Cliff Wells (14)- District 5 male tribute_

I sit on one of the couches of the waiting room. I don't know whether I should cry or laugh. Actually, my reaction at the Reaping has surprised even me. I wasn't sad or desperate, I was just resigned. In the past, I saw tributes break down onstage, try to flee… but it was all useless. Once you're called, you're doomed. Anyway, I behaved better than my district partner, who was dragged onstage. But I can't blame her, everyone knows that twelve-year-olds don't make it out of the arena alive.

My parents visit me. My mother is crying, and also my father has reddish eyes. They hug me.

"Oh, Cliff!" she says, sobbing.

"Promise us that you'll do your best to come back, there's nothing else we want to hear from you, my dear son. We'll be waiting for you," says my father.

"I promise," I reply. "Where's Timur?"

My parents break the embrace. They have both a worried expression on their faces. "He wants to see you separately," answers my father.

"Actually… when you were reaped, we expected him to volunteer, but… what has happened, Cliff? I know you argued yesterday, but why? You can tell us…" adds my mother with a quivering voice.

"You don't need to worry about that. At least, one of your sons is safe…" I say with a resigned smile.

"Don't talk like that, Cliff! Remember… we'll always love you, whatever happens!" affirms my mother, putting her hands on my shoulders.

"Whatever happened between you and Timur, there's no problem that can't be solved. But now… all you have to think of is coming back!" says my father, wiping away his tears.

Suddenly, two peacekeepers enter the room. "Time's up!" shouts one, so my parents are forced to leave the room.

When I see Timur, I don't know what I should expect from him, I don't know what I should tell him. In any case, I'm not angry because he didn't volunteer to save me, I knew he wouldn't. At first, he doesn't say anything, he just stares at me.

"How are you?" he asks me, eventually. By his tone, I can tell that he feels quite uneasy.

"I'm fine," I reply.

"Don't lie to me, please."

"That's the truth, Timur. I know it sounds weird, but I'm fine."

"I see," he replies.

My brother is about to leave the room, but I stop him: "Timur… I'm sorry for what happened yesterday. You're my brother and I love you, remember that."

He turns around, and nods in response. "Thank you, Cliff."

After that, he takes off his copper ring, and gives it to me. "This ring has always been lucky for me, I hope it will be lucky for you as well," he adds, before leaving me alone.

* * *

**So, quite an important chapter, because we got to know other two tributes and also the victor of the 98****th**** Hunger Games, who was just mentioned in chapter 1. What do you think of this Reaping? If you were Timur, would you volunteer to save Cliff?**

**Reviews are appreciated. Thank you for reading :) **


	8. D6: the Explorer and the Peacekeeper

**Hi, everyone! It took me a while to update, sorry. Anyway, I've started a SYOT titled _Divine Punishment_ in parallel with this story. In case of references, you'll see the symbol *, and find the explanation at the end of the chapter. I inform you that there are still plenty of slots free for submissions, you just need to PM me or send a review, if interested. To sum up, you can still submit:**

\- **23 TRIBUTES for ****_Divine Punishment _****(check the list on chapter 2, or on my bio)**

\- **SPONSORS for ****_Love Is the Deadliest Weapon _****(at the moment, there's only one sponsor, who supports 1 and 2)**

**For further info, see my profile or PM me. Just remember that people who submit will get the possibility of assigning EXTRA POINTS to their favourite tributes, even if I didn't accept their tributes/sponsors.**

**Thank you :) **

* * *

_Some months before the Reaping_

_Christopher "Chris" Terranova (12)- Citizen of District 6_

We thought that everything would be easier under cover of night. But we were wrong. Now, Mary and I are in a side road, panting behind some trash cans. She's peeking at the street.

"Can you see them?" I ask her under my breath.

"No," she replies, without taking her eyes off the street.

I don't know whether I should feel relieved or scared. The night is dead silent… too silent considering the fact that a group of peacekeepers is after us. Have we really been able to go dark? But I don't even have the time to ask myself this question that Mary starts running. I hear some dogs bark not too far from where I am. Scared to death, I immediately follow my mate. I look back just for a second, and see the light of an electric torch coming around the corner. They're close. If we don't find a good hiding spot soon, they'll catch us. I dread to think of how our overseers at the community home would punish us for escaping.

At some point, Mary turns right, taking a dark, narrow street between two rows of houses. I follow her. We run till the end of it and… no! It's a blind alley! We turn around to go back, but I can already see a flashlight in the distance. A peacekeeper has taken the same street! We're trapped. We begin desperately to look around, trying to find a way out. But we're enclosed by walls, which provide no handhold for climbing. Eventually, we hide behind some trash cans… again. Neither says a word, the slightest noise would betray us. We can only hope that the peacekeeper doesn't find out our hiding place. But it's too much for us to hope for. In fact, the peacekeeper brings down the trash cans with a kick. We're doomed. I'm scared stiff, I barely have the energy to wince.

"There you are, you little brats!" he shouts, pointing the flashlight at us.

It's all happening in a moment. I hear a hiss in the air, then the peacekeeper keels over to the ground, hit by an invisible force. I approach him, and notice that there's a sort of dart on his neck. Suddenly, Mary screams. I turn around, scared. A bold figure all wrapped in a dark cloak has appeared out of nowhere. No, wait… a rope is dangling behind the stranger! I look up, and see that there are other dark figures on the roof. The stranger is not alone, then. But what does he want from us?

Before I can say a word, he speaks with a voice as deep as a moonless night: "Follow me."

"We're not going anywhere without knowing who you are!" says Mary.

"Do you prefer the company of peacekeepers? They'll be here in no time," he points out.

In fact, the sound of their boots is closer and closer, accompanied by the barking of their dogs. I wince at the thought of their jaws biting me. As things stand, we'd better follow the stranger. Don't know why, but I feel that I can trust him.

Mary and I use the rope to climb over the roof, followed by the stranger. It's hard, but we make it. In the meantime, some peacekeepers have crowded around their mate laying on the ground. Luckily, we're already bent down on the roof, and the rope we used to climb has been collected. They cannot see us, I hope.

"They hit John!" someone shouts.

"Don't tell me he died…"

"No, he just fainted. Look at that dart! They used some kind of sleeping drug."

"How could they get it?"

"No idea."

"But where have they gone?"

"They ran away!"

"They couldn't have gone very far, we must find them!"

Only when they're gone, the stranger and his mates stand up. "You were lucky," he says, addressing us.

"Why did you help us?" I ask him.

"This is neither the time nor the place to ask questions. Follow us, we'll take you to a safe place," he replies.

To be sincere, there are a lot of questions I'd like to ask him, but his mates have already started to swing from rooftop to rooftop by using ropes with harpoons, ropes tied up to their hips. I cannot help but gape. They're amazing acrobats, but Mary and I will never be able to emulate them. Climbing over the roof was already a slog.

"Hang on to me and Davis," orders the stranger, indicating one of his remaining mates. It's almost like he had read my mind.

I'm a bit afraid of falling, even if I'm wrapped around Davis, who's a muscular man. Anyway, I cannot miss the opportunity of seeing the city from above, so I avoid closing my eyes. It's like I'm living one of those amazing adventures I used to invent for my roommates at the community home. Suddenly, I feel sad. None of them wanted to risk escaping, Mary was the only one who accepted. I hope they'll be okay. As for me, I couldn't stay in that place one more second. I couldn't accept to live there until I would find a job to survive. The world is a wondrous place, and is waiting for me to explore it.

In the meantime, we have reached the outskirts of town. We descend to the ground, and enter a fence. I look around, bewildered. It's a cemetery of trains. Some of them are onto sidings, while others lie on the ground. There's also a great warehouse in the middle, surrounded by lower buildings.

"Once, this place was meant to fix trains, but now it's just a landfill for old wrecks. Broken things aren't fixed any longer, people think only of building new ones and consuming them. But it doesn't mean that we have to do it as well… we're different, we recycle the pieces that are still usable and resell them," explains the stranger, grimly.

"You work here, then," I say.

The stranger lets out a smile. "We _live _here, kid," he specifies.

When we enter the warehouse, he takes off his dark cloak, so that I can see his face. He's a middle-age man, with scarred, tanned skin, thick, grey hair, and different-coloured eyes- one blue and one brown.

"My name's August, by the way," he says.

"I'm Christopher, and she's my sister, Mary."

Actually, Mary is not my sister. We were put in the community home the same day. My parents died in a train accident leaving me orphan, whereas she had been abandoned. Since then, we've grown very close. Mary has even decided to take my family name… she thought that having the same name would increase the chances of being adopted together.

"Davis, give them some food, and then find them a place for the night," orders August.

"Yes, boss," replies Davis.

August starts climbing a wooden staircase. "See you tomorrow," he says.

"Hey! Wait! You didn't answer my question! Why did you help us?" I point out, but he neither replies nor stops.

"You owe us an explanation!" adds Mary.

I'm about to follow him up the stairs, but Davis stops me. "Don't discuss with August. It has been a heavy night, you need to rest. Tomorrow, he'll answer your questions. August is a good boss, you'll learn to appreciate him," he says with such a gentle smile that we give up.

…...

_Two years ago_

_Craig Donovan (44)- Head Peacekeeper_

If there's anything I really hate, that's patrolling in the pouring rain. But the Head Peacekeeper has to give the example, otherwise these lazy soldiers will learn only to slack off. And District 6 is definitely the wrong place to slack off. With all its criminal gangs, it's one of the most dangerous districts of Panem. Peacekeepers need to have broad shoulders… and who better than a native to lead them? Not one of those dandies who think that they're the best just because they come from Career districts or, worse, from the Capitol. But I'm not so silly to reveal my true feelings for our government. The Head Peacekeeper is supposed to be loyal; besides, I've got a family to support, I would never risk their lives due to my beliefs.

My attention is drawn by one of my men, who comes running from a side road.

"What's up, soldier?" I immediately ask him.

"A fight broke out in a school, sir," he answers, panting.

"Where?"

"In the outskirts, sir, near the community home."

The outskirts of District 6 are the most similar place to hell that I can bring to mind- a maze of streets and slums that seems endless. There, you can find the heart of criminality. People are so used to coping with criminals, that breaking the law is regarded as the norm… and I know this because I was born in the outskirts.

When we arrive on the spot, only two contenders are left standing- a girl and a boy. The others are laying on the ground, wailing.

"You may have knocked out all my friends, Steel, but you've got no chance against me!" shouts the boy.

"We'll see," she replies, calm.

That little girl was able to defeat all her opponents, then. That's incredible!

"Shall we intervene, sir?" asks a peacekeeper behind me.

"Not yet," I reply. I'm curious to know how this fight will end.

The boy is definitely stronger than the girl, but his moves are too hasty due to his rage. On the other hand, the girl is keeping a cool head. She's little, but quick and sly. She's avoiding all his attacks, making him wear out. Some of his fists almost hit their mark, but she's always ready to block the blows and fight back. Eventually, she punches him repeatedly in the stomach, making the boy keel over to the ground.

"I think it's enough," says the girl.

She turns her back on her opponent- a bad mistake, because he has got up again, and is about to stab her in the back with a pocketknife… that's when I intervene. I pull my gun and shoot his knife, which hits the ground with a dead sound.

"Stabbing someone in the back is for cowards," I say.

In the meantime, the girl has turned around. She's staring at the pocketknife on the ground with widened eyes. Suddenly, she jumps on the boy, as if she wanted to choke him to death. But I nod to my men, so that they separate the two opponents.

"You," I say, addressing the boy. "Now, you and your friends shall clear out."

The boy helps his mates to get up again, and then they leave without saying a word.

I turn around to talk to the girl, who's still held up by a peacekeeper. "Release her," I order. "What's your name?" I ask her.

"Why do you want to know it?" she replies, massaging her arm. Her gaze is defiant, her brown eyes are on fire.

One of my men is about to slap her, but I stop him.

"I asked you a question, you should respond," I go on, staring at her.

She doesn't get intimidated though, but she answers, at least: "Alexa… Alexa Steel."

"Well, Alexa, I'm Craig Donovan, the Head Peacekeeper. Would you like to join our forces?"

…...

_Present day_

_Christopher "Chris" Terranova (12)- Citizen of District 6_

Even if it's early, Mary and I are already on the main streets. Who knows? We might find someone to rob. Yes, since we have accepted August's protection, we have become skilled thieves. To him, reselling pieces of old trains doesn't bring enough money, so the youngest members of what he calls his "family" are sent on the streets to rob. Our targets are mainly the rich people, who live in the city centre. We mustn't even think of stealing from the poor. Now, I feel like Robin Hood, my favourite hero who robs from the rich and gives to the poor. Besides, August always says: "Better a thief than a morphling"… he's right, I suppose. The truth is that I don't know what a "morphling" is, but it must be something really bad, since nobody wants to explain me what this word means.

Mary is watching the street, but her eyes are unblinking. She looks worried.

"What's up?" I ask her.

"Nothing… it's just… I was just thinking that today it's our first Reaping," she answers.

"Are you afraid?"

"You not?"

"A bit."

"I think it's normal. I know we've got only one slip, but twelve-year-olds are often reaped and, you know, they don't stand a chance in the Games," she points out.

"Don't overthink it, today's like any day," I say, putting my hand on her shoulder.

"How could you say that, Chris?" she replies, unbelieving.

I shrug. "We have only to blend in the crowd, and attend a stupid ceremony. It's all the same, for the rest."

"Do you really think you'll be able to go unnoticed with _that_?" she asks, pointing to the tattoo on my left shoulder.

Actually, everyone in August's family- including August himself- has the same tattoo on their left shoulder- on the left to be near the heart. It consists of a diamond made by joining two As, one of which is upside down. "A" stands for "August", of course.

"Gus is megalomaniacal," I say with a smile.

Mary giggles. "If August heard you call him like that, he could get angry. Only Davis can call him Gus, and only when the boss is in a good mood."

"And when ever Gus is in a good mood? He's always so sulky!"

Then, I start doing impressions of him, until Mary bursts out laughing. At least, I managed to cheer her up.

Before heading to the main square for the Reaping, we get back to base. Our family is gathering in the warehouse. August and Davis are already in.

"After the Reaping, come back here. No one is supposed to work on Reaping days, but the world cannot stop just because the Capitol has kidnapped other two kids," says August, grimly.

When Mary and I reach the main square, I feel a lump in my throat all of a sudden. In the crowd of those of Reaping age, I've spotted some of my ex-roommates of the community home. I feel like crying, but Mary puts her hand on my shoulder. I turn around, and see that she's got a sad smile on her face.

"We'd better avoid them," she says.

"Why? They're still our friends!" I complain.

"Do you think they'd like to talk to us after what we have become?"

"What do you mean, Mary?"

"We're robbers, criminals… they're likely to be frightened by us," she explains.

"You're right, but…"

"When August told us about his family, we weren't enthusiastic about it at first, remember that?" she goes on, interrupting me.

"If they knew our boss, they would change their mind!" I say with conviction.

"But they cannot know him."

"Until they stay in the community home," I add.

"They didn't run away that night, and they won't either today. There are too much peacekeepers, Chris. Don't do anything stupid, please," she replies, whispering.

That said, Mary reaches the twelve-year-old section, and I follow her. Neither says a word. I clench my fists. Why does she disagree? If I managed to convince just a few friends, August could bring them into our family. Together, we could explore the city, and invent amazing adventures like old times. If only I could speak to them… but they're all scattered across the square!

"Alexa Steel!"

I'm suddenly dragged back into reality. I look up at the stage. The escort has just called the name of the female tribute… luckily, Mary is safe. Now it's men's turn. I hold my breath.

"Christopher Terranova!"

I can't believe it! I've been reaped! Instinctively, I look at Mary. She's gaping, her eyes widened in terror. A couple of peacekeepers is approaching, so I quickly leave my section and mount the stage head-on. My heart is racing, and I feel cold. I force myself to keep calm. I look at my district partner: she's not very tall, with short, dark hair, brown eyes, and some freckles on her cheeks. There's no sign of fear in her eyes.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the tributes of District 6! Alexa Steel and Christopher Terranova! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" shouts the escort, who looks like a giant candy.

When I'm left alone in the waiting room, I still feel cold. Today, it's hot and sunny, but my body is a block of ice. What about Mary? What about my friends? What about me? _I don't want to die__... _I keep repeating to myself, as tears start flooding from my eyes. I wipe them away. I open the door to tell the peacekeeper that I don't want to see anybody, and notice that the principal of the community home is out there. He's staring at me with his cold eyes.

"Send him away, I don't want to talk to him," I whisper to the peacekeeper at the door.

I get back into the waiting room, shaking like a leaf. Why did he come? Now, I'm a tribute, he cannot bring me back to the community home. But maybe… maybe he came for Mary! What can I do? Mary back in the community home, without me… what an unbearable idea! No, no, no… August will do something! That's for sure!

Mary enters the room, and I immediately hug her.

"Mary, the principal… the principal…" I stammer.

"I saw him," she replies.

"Run!"

"Don't worry, Davis came with me."

I break the embrace, reassured. "How are you, Mary?" I ask her.

She giggles, teary. "I could ask you the same thing," she points out.

I don't know what to say. I limit myself to smile, but I'd like so badly to cry. We pass the rest of the time in silence. Mary looks like she's about to say something, but she keeps silent. I don't want to force her to speak, her presence is enough to me.

…...

_Alexa Steel (17)- District 6 female tribute_

Don't know why, but I'm not angry, I feel relieved. I've always wanted to have a better life, and now I've got the possibility of achieving my goal. I smirk at the thought.

My three brothers- Danny, Miles and Jeremy- visit me.

Miles and Jeremy hug me tight. They're too young to realize what's happening, they're not even of Reaping age. I promise them that I'll be back as soon as possible. Then, they run outside the room, leaving me with Danny.

"Samantha will look after them until I get back," he says.

Samantha is his girlfriend… no, his _wife_, since they got married in secret. I've never been able to stand her. I'm pretty sure she doesn't love my brother, she married him just to get off the street… besides, she has got pregnant by Danny, assuming that the baby is his, of course. Another mouth… no, two mouths to feed! Our parents died years ago, and since then Danny has worked hard to support our family. We really needed other two mouths to feed!

"If you trust her…" I say, rolling my eyes.

"She's my wife, I do trust her, of course."

We stare at each other in silence. The relationship between Danny and me has always been complicated. I cannot get along with him, because his ideas are too different from mine. He's too narrow-minded for my liking.

"How do you feel, sis?" he asks me, at some point. From his tone, I can tell that he's not at ease.

"I'm fine. Maybe I should have volunteered, I would have made a better impression," I reply with a shrug.

"What?"

"Yeah, it would have been better."

"How can you say that? You're going to fight to the death!" says Danny, clearly upset.

"… and I'm going to win, and leave that landfill you call house forever!" I add.

"If you found a good job instead of being the lapdog of the Head Peacekeeper, we could move to a better house! No, you prefer being a mindless soldier… a puppet… instead of helping your family! I let you join the peacekeepers, even if I didn't approve your decision, but that's too much! You can't really think about the Hunger Games as an opportunity!"

"The Games _are _an opportunity, though. Don't worry, whether I win or lose, I'm no longer a problem for you, Danny. You can go on with your life," I say, turning my back on him.

He's about to leave the room, but then he stops on the threshold. "We may argue, Alexa, but we'll always be siblings, you cannot sever a blood bond. Remember that. Farewell," he says, and then leaves me alone.

* * *

**What do you think of Alexa and Chris?**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing :)**

**I'll be waiting for your submissions!**


	9. D7: the Storyteller and the Little Hero

**Hi, everyone! Before we start with this new chapter, I remind you that you can still submit SPONSORS for this story and TRIBUTES for _Divine Punishment_. Just remember that submitters can assign up to 20 EXTRA POINTS to tributes per chapter (after all the Reapings are done). Of course, the more points tributes earn, the more possibilities they have to survive (the list with their current points is on my profile). For further info, see my profile or PM me. Thank you!**

**And now enjoy your reading :) **

* * *

_Two years ago_

_Bella Page (14)- Citizen of District 7_

Today is Rose's birthday. Rose, my best friend… I feel unexplainably happy like I'm the one having my birthday. For the occasion, she'll have a party at her house. I check my outfit for the party one more time… a bell-shaped ochre yellow dress with a subtle flowery pattern, with which I match a white waistband. I usually keep this dress for Reaping days, but today there's a special occasion to celebrate. My best outfit for my best friend.

I climb down the wooden staircase and recover the bag with my present in the living room. I hope she'll like it. It's a necklace with a rose-shaped pendant… every rose is beautiful but with thorns like my friend, because she's such a feisty person, whereas I'm the quiet one. Anyway, we met at school and became fast friends, despite our diversity of temper.

Rose lives a few blocks away, so I can go there by foot. It's a sunny spring afternoon and a gentle breeze blows. I love spring, especially the smell of flowers in the shrubberies. Living in District 7 has its advantages, I suppose. Contact with nature is a fundamental part of our lives. Besides, our district specializes in paper, as a consequence, books are easily available. I couldn't live without my books. My parents are two teachers, and they have always supported the importance of the written word. Once, my father told me: "It's not only a matter of education, Bella. Books contain the voices of our forebears, and there can't be a future without a past. Remember that."

As soon as I set foot in Rose's house, she hugs me.

"It's about time you showed up, Bella!" she greets me.

I give her my present. "That's a little gift for you. Happy birthday, Rose," I say.

She immediately unwraps it. "Oh, Bella… it's beautiful! You didn't have to… that's really too much…" she stammers, without taking her eyes off the necklace.

"Glad you like it."

"Like? I love it! Tell me… you thought of my name when you bought it, didn't you?"

"Of course," I reply, but I don't tell her why. I know she would appreciate the beautiful-but-with-thorns thing, but I feel too excited to add something more. I'm really happy Rose likes my present. Actually, I was still on the fence when I bought it, because she doesn't wear necklaces very often. However, it must be said that not many people in Seven can afford to buy jewels. Our two families are well-off enough, nevertheless, Rose and I don't like bragging about it.

Rose hasn't invited too many people to her party, mainly our schoolmates. There's also someone I don't know… some friends or relatives, I suppose. I spot also Gary Hackman in the crowd.

"You invited also Gary?" I whisper to Rose.

"Nah, he crashed at as usual! Does it bother you? Have you got something to tell me?" she replies, with a smirk.

"Ah, ah, very funny."

Gary is two years older than us. He has flowing dark hair and brown eyes. He belongs to a family of lumberjacks, and you can tell it by his muscled physique. Even if Gary flirts with every pretty (and rich) girl he sees, Rose keeps saying that he has a crush on me. But I don't think so, besides, he's not my type. Rose loves teasing me with this story, so it's likely to be all an invention of her.

"Gary has _not _a crush on me, Rose," I say.

"And you?"

"He's just a friend to me."

"If you think so… why did you blush, then?" she replies with a wide smile, pinching my cheeks.

"Stop it, please! I'm embarrassed, that's all!" I say, giggling.

Luckily, Rose lets go of this stuff, eventually. The rest of the party is quite pleasant. It's as good a time as any to have a talk to your friends outside of school, and also to meet new people. Time goes by, and I don't even realize it. Eventually, it's time for the birthday cake- a mille-feuille cake decorated with red fruits that Rose's mother made with her own hands. But Rose is nowhere to be found. Where has she gone? We start looking for her, but she's neither inside nor outside the house, apparently. I feel a bit worried. How could she just disappear?

Eventually, I see her outside the lumber room where her father- a wood craftsman- keeps his tools. She's speaking cheerfully with Gary like it was nothing. I'm about to join them and tell Rose that she must get back, when Gary gets closer to Rose and kisses her. I feel a sudden pang in my stomach. My heart sinks. My cheeks are burning, and I'd like to cry. Why do I feel like that?

…...

_9 years ago_

_Erasmus Page (40)- Citizen of District 7_

I'm suddenly woken up by a knock at the front door in the dead of night. I try to get out of bed without waking my wife, but she has already turned around, rubbing her eyes.

"What's up?" she asks me in a whisper.

"Someone knocked. I'll go downstairs to check, you stay here," I reply.

To descend the stairs, I must walk by my daughter's room. I have a quick look inside: little Bella is sleeping peacefully. She has also a smile on her lips. She must be having a nice dream.

The knocking continues insistently. I run downstairs as fast as I can.

"Who is it?" I ask, when I'm finally at the front door. My voice is slightly quivering. Who can come to wake you up in the dead of night? If he was a prowler, he wouldn't knock, would he?

"It's Noah. Please, Erasmus, open the door!" he answers.

Noah is our neighbour. I open the door to let him in and notice that he's totally upset: he's all sweaty and is breathing hard, leaning on the door frame.

"What's up, Noah? Would you like a glass of water?" I ask him, worried.

"No, there's no time to waste! A fire… a fire has started in the lumberjacks' quarter! They said it's not an arson… just the heat… this summer has been so dry. But it's quickly spreading, we need all possible help to quench it!" he replies, while trying to catch his breath.

I nod and immediately follow him. Noah is right: it has been an unusual summer, too hot and too dry for a district located that far north. Besides, in District 7 the majority of buildings is made of wood, so fires are quite common, especially in the areas near the pine forest like the lumberjacks' quarter.

When we get on the spot, we find out that luckily the fire has been almost completely tamed, expect for a couple of houses that are still burning. I join the bucket brigade that has been formed to speed up the process. Suddenly, I hear a distinct scream in the night. I look around to see where it comes from, but… no, it comes from inside one of the burning houses!

"There's still someone inside!" I shout.

"It can't be, nobody can survive so long in a burning house," replies a man, grimly.

"But I heard someone scream! There's someone trapped inside!" I complain.

"You must have imagined it," he says with a shrug.

No, I haven't imagined it. As a confirmation, I hear another scream. I immediately run towards the house, careless about the fire.

"Are you mad? Stop!"

No, I can't stop. I'm driven by a force that I didn't know to possess. Inside the house, the heat is unbearable. I cover my mouth and nose with my hand to avoid breathing the smoke. The fire illuminates the house like daytime, but orienting with its deafening roaring in my ears and drops of sweat on my eyes is not easy. Luckily, the house is on one floor. I hear a third scream and follow it till I find a tiny figure curled up in a corner. It's a child. With my free arm, I immediately hold him… or her? I can't see well. But who cares? It's a life to save! I try to go back the way I came, but the boards of the ceiling are already shutting down, sending pieces of burning wood on the floor. I manage to avoid them, holding the child more tightly for protection. We finally leave the house right before it collapses. Relieved, I breathe deeply, even if a nasty taste of smoke has spread in my mouth and throat. I look at the child… it's a boy with messy blonde hair and blue eyes. He's still shocked but fine.

"What's your name, kid?" I ask him.

"Cedric," he answers, shyly.

"Where are your parents, Cedric?"

He points at the pile of burning boards that was his house. The fire has made Cedric an orphan.

"And you haven't got some relatives? Grandparents or uncles?"

He shakes his head. I don't know whether he realizes what has just happened to him. In any case, I cannot leave him alone. Orphans end up in community homes, and they're said to be dreadful places. I don't need to think about it one more second, I've already made my decision: from now on, Cedric will be part of my family.

I take him home, where I find my wife and Bella in the living room. My daughter runs immediately towards me.

"What has happened, daddy? Who is he?" she asks.

"That's your brother, his name is Cedric. Why don't you show him his new house?" I reply, messing up with her brown hair.

"Sure. Welcome home, Cedric. My name is Bella," she says with a gentle smile, holding her hand out to him.

"Thank you," he replies with a face as red as a tomato, and then follows her upstairs.

In the meantime, my wife has joined me. She's clearly confused.

"Angela…" I say.

"What has happened?" she asks me.

"There was a fire. Cedric… all his family was… I couldn't leave him alone…" I stammer.

In response, she hugs me. "You did right, Erasmus," she says.

When I pass by Bella's room, I see that Cedric is laying on her bed, and she's sitting on the floor beside him with a book on her lap.

"Can you tell me a fairy tale?" he asks her.

"Of course. Once upon a time, there was a little hero named Cedric, who was the bravest knight of the kingdom…

…...

_Present day_

_Bella Page (16)- Citizen of District 7_

I wake up with dregs of a dream, but I can't remember it. Cedric has slept with me last night. Today, it's his first Reaping, and he was too scared to sleep alone. Like he didn't have enough problems… sometimes, he still wakes up screaming and squirming like his body was on fire- the effect of the fire that killed the rest of his family of origin, I suppose. But he just needs some stroking and comforting words to calm down. That's why we sleep in the same room. When he has his panic attacks, I can immediately help him. Then, when he has quieted down, I tell him a fairy tale. I invent a new story every time, but it has always a brave little hero named Cedric as the protagonist. I like thinking that my brother can overcome his difficulties like a real hero.

I get out of bed, then shake Cedric from his slumber. He stretches a bit while yawning.

"Good morning, little hero. Did you sleep well?" I ask him.

"Yes, thanks to you," he answers.

"Come on! Let's have breakfast!" I offer.

He snorts and lays back again, moaning. "Can we stay in bed a little bit longer?" he says, with a whiny tone.

"No, we can't. I'm sorry," I reply, messing up with his blonde hair.

He snorts again, but, luckily, he follows me in the kitchen. Our parents are already having breakfast- milk and coffee, cookies and brioches. We join them. Cedric grabs a pot of strawberry jam from the shelf to fill his brioche. There's some tension in the air. No one says a word, so I decide to break that awkward silence: "What shall we do after the Reaping?"

"We'll see, Bella. Your mum and I have some homework to correct," answers my father.

"But today is Reaping day, no one is supposed to work. You could take a break…"

"Life has to go on, dearie. Everyone has work to do, Reaping or not Reaping."

We get ready for the ceremony. I'll wear my best dress, while Cedric chooses a simple long-sleeved blue shirt and a pair of dark brown trousers. We head to the main square together, but my brother and I step away from our parents.

"What did he mean by "life has to go on"?" Cedric asks me.

"He meant that we have to stay strong, no matter what happens," I reply.

"I don't know how you can be so calm… I've got only one slip and I'm scared, while you with your five slips… you're admirable, sis," he continues.

"Maybe I just got used. It's your first Reaping, Cedric, a little fear is normal. Don't you remember when the hero had to defeat the dragon? He was scared too, but he made it in the end," I say, with a smile.

He giggles. "Don't you think I'm too old for that stuff?"

"Old? You're only twelve! Besides, you can be a hero at all ages!"

When we reach the square in front of the Justice Building, Cedric starts trembling. I hold his hand. "Everything gonna be okay," I say with a reassuring smile. He just nods in response. We present ourselves to the peacekeepers, then reach our sections. Rose comes stand beside me. She's wearing the necklace I gave her for her fourteenth birthday.

"How are you, Rose?" I ask her. I know she's still a bit annoyed, because Gary split up with her last month.

"I'd be happier, if Gary got reaped," she replies, venomous.

"Don't say that! I know you don't think that, you're a good girl, Rose, you'll find someone who really appreciates you."

"You're the only one who does it, Bella."

I blush. "You're my best friend," I say.

"Yeah, I know it… as your best friend, I must tell you something…"

"What?" I ask, curious.

"Gary told me it was just a flirt… two years a flirt! That stupid idiot! Anyway, he said that he just wanted to make you jealous, he went out with me so long to make it look serious…"

Now or never. "Well, he did make me jealous, but…"

But I don't get the chance of finishing my sentence, because the escort from the Capitol has mounted the stage- a man in a ridiculous dotted costume that makes him look like a clown.

"Good morning, District 7! Welcome to the 99th annual Hunger Games! Amazing how quickly time passes! It feels like yesterday I came here for the first time, and a year has gone by, instead! Anyway, let's go down to business! We are all eager to know our tributes, right? Ladies first!" he chirps.

He picks up the first slip he finds. "Bella Page!"

When my name is called, all my world falls apart before my eyes. Rose is looking at me, unable to speak, her eyes widened with terror, her face of an unhealthy pallor. I mount the stage, trying to look calm. The last thing I need now is to be targeted at as a weakling. _You're not going to die, Bella, you can make it like the hero who defeated the dragon _I keep repeating to myself.

"Oh, what a wonderful young lady! Does anyone want to volunteer for her?" asks the escort, but, of course, no one answers. "Let's move to men, then… the lucky one is… Cedric Page!" he goes on.

No, it can't be, please not Cedric. I scan the crowd, looking for my brother, but my eyes meet those of Gary, instead. _Please, Gary, save him… save him, if you really love me _I silently pray. But Gary looks away. What did I expect in the end? In the meantime, Cedric has joined me onstage.

"Are you siblings?" asks the escort. For a moment, I can see a glimpse of genuine sorrow in his eyes, but it is quickly replaced by a fake cheerfulness.

"Yes," I answer, in a whisper.

"Oh, this gonna be interesting! Will the siblings ally or rival? We'll find it out soon! Ladies and gentlemen, the tributes of District 7, Bella and Cedric Page! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

When I'm left alone in the waiting room, I have to use all my strength to avoid crying. I bury my head in the pillows on the couches to suffocate my sobs. I hear the door open behind my back.

"Go away! I don't want to see anyone!" I shout, without turning around.

"Not even your best friend?"

I breathe deeply. Eventually, when I turn around, I see that Rose is teary. I've never seen her cry, not even when Gary split up with her. She hugs me.

"Oh, Bella! That's unfair! You and your brother in one shot! I… I feel so guilty, I should have volunteer, but… I was paralysed, I couldn't…" she stammers.

I break her embrace. "I wouldn't let you volunteer for me, Rose. I… you're my best friend, I can't let them hurt you," I say.

"What are you going to do with your brother?"

"I'll do my best to protect him, even if it means my death. In any case, District 7 will have a victor this year, I promise," I affirm, trying to sound convinced.

"You'd better keep your promise, then," she replies under her breath. "Take this as a district token. Wear it and I'll be with you," she adds, giving me her necklace.

"Thank you."

My parents visit me next. I tell them the same things I told Rose, basically: I'm going to do everything I can to save Cedric.

"He told us the same," says my mother, teary.

"Maybe they will change the rules and allow two victors from the same district," offers my father, trying to sound hopeful.

"Like they did with the Mockingjay? No, they won't make the same mistake, and you know it. I want to be honest with you: faced with choice, I'll choose Cedric's life over mine. I… I thank you for everything… I…"

But I can't finish my sentence, because I burst into tears.

My parents hug me tight. "Don't give up, Bella, I know we'll see you again," says my father, eventually.

…...

_Cedric Page (12)- District 7 male tribute_

It must me a nightmare, that's the only possibility. I start slapping my face, trying desperately to wake up, but it doesn't work, and the pain is too intense to be fake. I've been reaped for the Hunger Games, where I'm going to fight to the death… and, even worse, if I want to survive, Bella has to die. That can't be real. I've already lost everything once, and I will lose my sister too, if I don't do anything. Yeah, if I don't do anything… this thought possesses me now. I'm going to protect her with my life. I know my parents love me and will suffer because of my death, but they cannot lose their true daughter. Besides, if I die, I will reunite with my family of origin… it's not that bad, right?

Axel and Rob- my best friends- visit me first, interrupting my thoughts. We're inseparable, in fact they call us "the three musketeers" at school. We try some little conversation, we talk also a bit about old times… but there's nothing they can say that could ever comfort me. It's awful… I'm going to die soon, and I'm not able to say goodbye to my best friends.

My parents visit me next. They immediately hug me.

"Oh, Cedric, my child! We're so sorry!" says my mother, while tears keep flooding from her eyes.

"Promise us you'll be strong, also for your sister," adds my father.

"I'll be strong as a knight, I promise," I say.

My father breaks the embrace to look me right in the eye. "Life has been unfair to you, kid, but you have always to show the best version of you. You cannot let despair overwhelm you, remember that."

I nod. "I'll be brave as the knight of my sister's tales… and every good knight has a princess to save. Bella gonna be my princess."

* * *

**So, Bella and Cedric are the tributes of District 7. What do you think of them? I'd like to know your opinion about Bella and her relationship with Rose, in particular. Actually, it's the first time I write something like that, so maybe you can give me some tips. You can also PM me, if you don't want to send a review. **

**Thank you for reading :)**


	10. D8: the Actress and the Painter

_A couple of days before the Reaping_

_Penelope "Penny" Peachskin (16)- Citizen of District 8_

"What do you think, Penny?" Autumn asks me, as soon as the run-though before her spectacle is over.

Sitting in the front row, I can analyse what happens onstage in greater depth. I can hear the dialogues better, but I can also see the faces of the different players, especially their eyes… how they play a character, what they feel… everything can be assumed on the base of what their eyes express. Today, I saw a great emotion in Autumn's eyes… as usual, after all. Her light, brown eyes, so light that sometimes they seem almost pink, especially under the lights of a theatre… oh, how much I envy her for them... and not only for them. Actually, my sister could be a model with her long, wavy, auburn hair, rosy skin, high cheekbones, and slender figure. In the past, she has been asked to parade for some important fashion houses that work for the Capitol, but she has always refused. Once, I asked her why, and she answered: "When you're a model, the clothes you wear are everything. In a play, the focus of attention are the players, instead… how they perform, which emotions they manage to convey to the audience… costumes are just a part of the character an actor plays."

"Well… it was good to me, just… I don't know whether you'll manage to lighten the mood," I reply.

"That's why I chose a comedy," she retorts, as if it was a foregone conclusion.

I know my sister doesn't like it, when her work is questioned, but I really can't help it. In a couple of days, there will be the Reaping, and other two kids will be forced to take part in the annual Hunger Games. Under such circumstances, nothing can lighten my mood, not even a comedy. It's the first time Autumn decides to put on a show the same day of a Reaping… well, the same evening, to be exact, but that changes nothing. In my opinion, it's a risky choice. I usually admire my sister's work and her talent as actress, but, in this case, I cannot agree with her decisions.

"Hum… I don't know… the whole thing is kind of a mockery," I say.

"It's a comedy, Penny… people need to mind off, even if it's just for a while. Anyway, it's too late to get cold feet, everything's ready and, you know, the show must go on."

"Well said, Autumn. People might question your decisions, but the director has the last word. I'm pretty sure your spectacle gonna be a success," says a voice behind my back.

I turn around, and see that our father is limping towards the stage, leaning on his walking stick. Weaver Peachskin is a victor of the Hunger Games. He got hurt in the arena- a rather mountainous landscape- and, when he was finally rescued, it was too late for his leg. But it wasn't cut off, at least. He's crippled since then. After his victory, he has invested money to found the theatre we're in… the Liberty Theatre, "where every artist is free to express"… well, not completely free, since every spectacle has to be passed by the mayor, but being given a place like that is great, I suppose.

"Sorry, I missed the run-through, but I'll be sitting in the front row the day of your spectacle," our father goes on.

"I'm counting on it," replies Autumn with a smile.

"No spoilers for you, then, it gonna be a surprise," I add.

"Even better, I don't like spoilers. Moving on… is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's ready for the show," answers my sister.

"I didn't mean that. How do you feel about… about the Reaping?" he replies, worried.

Our father was reaped when he was 18, the last Reaping before safety. Now, Autumn is 18 too, so I think he's worried about her. If my sister got reaped, what a cosmic joke would it be! I don't wish her it, of course, just… sometimes, it seems that someone is truly steering your fate as if it was a helm. And what about me? My five slips are just a drop in the ocean, I suppose.

"I've got only seven slips in that ball, the possibility of being reaped is slow. In any case, thinking too far ahead is useless, right?"

"I used to think the same thing, but then my name was called," he points out.

"It won't happen again, not to me, it's nearly impossible," she insists.

"Nearly."

"Oh, father! Why are you so negative today?" Autumn complains, a bit upset.

"I'm _realistic_," he corrects her. "I want you… you two to prepare for the worst, that's all. If you're spared, I'll be the happiest man on earth, but if not… well, I'm ready to spend all my money to help you! The whole thing is disgusting, I know… sponsoring tributes, betting on their lives…"

"Everything gonna be okay. Our family will remain united whatever happens, and the Capitol cannot take it away from us," I chime in, interrupting him.

My tone must sound convincing, because they both smile in response, but, deeper down, I feel uncomfortable. I don't know… I've got a feeling that something will go wrong...

…...

_Last year_

_Tartan Dye (12)- Citizen of District 8_

With my heart in my throat, I head to the main square along with my parents. There, a projector has been mounted to watch the Hunger Games. Watching the Games is mandatory , so, if you can't afford to have a television at home like my family, you should go to the main square. Of course, peacekeepers aren't sent around to check if every citizen of District 8 is actually watching the Games, but this year we have one more reason not to miss them: my brother Denim has been reaped. Even if he's one year older than me, I know that I should have volunteered to save him. Denim is feeble, whereas I'm stronger, I'd certainly stand more chances than him, and this awareness fills me with sorrow. I was a coward. My guilty conscience is driving me crazy… the just punishment, I suppose.

The broadcast starts with Panem's national anthem and the ever-present seal of the Capitol. Then, an aerial view of the arena. My heart sinks. It's all frozen! The white ice is glittering under the sunshine, making it almost unbearable to look at. In the meantime, the tributes have emerged from the tubes, all dressed in warm clothes. The cameras do several close-ups of their faces, including that of Denim. He's clearly scared to death, but looks also determined. I hope he has a plan. _Please, Denim, flee as fast as you can, avoid that slaughter!_ I silently address him.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 98th annual Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favour!_" says the announcer.

Oh, how much I hate those words! How can the odds be in our favour, if you force us to kill one another like beasts?

20…19…18…17…16…

The eyes of my brother are fixed on the golden cornucopia. _No, that's the last place you should go to! Flee, Denim, flee! _I keep thinking, as if my thoughts could ever make him change his mind.

…5…4…3…2…1

The gong sounds. All the tributes jump from their pedestrals. Some of them run straight to the cornucopia, others flee. The slaughter has begun. The first victims fall, their blood stains the frozen candour of the ground. But where's my brother? Oh, yeah, now I see him… he has grabbed a backpack, and is now fleeing in the opposite direction. Well done, Denim! But then something happens, something unexpected. A muffled sound… you can hear it also from the screen… and then some steam columns- or are they fountains?- come up from the ground in a violent manner. What's the hell are they? Some kind of volcano? Yeah, but they erupt hot water, not lava! *** **Anyway, some tributes have been hit by that hot rainfall, and they're now moaning and digging into the ice, looking for some freshness. What an awful scene! Denim was right in front of one of those volcanos when it erupted. Instinctively, he threw himself to the ground. Now, he's getting up again, but then… then I see her, the girl from One is right behind his back! _Turn around, Denim!_ But it's too late. Before my brother can even realize it, she stabs him with her dagger, right in his jugular.

_Brother… _my feet start running in the opposite direction of the screen, without me wanting it.

"Tartan!" my father calls me.

I don't listen to him. I don't listen to the stupid words of the commentators. I can hear only the hysterical cries of my mother. I trip and fall several times. Seeing where you're going is hard, when your sight is blurred by tears. My mind is blank. I don't know where I'm going, I'm just following my feet… and my feet lead me to an old abandoned warehouse, the place where I usually meet my friends. People call us vandals, but painters is the right word for us. We like decorating old buildings with our artworks. We usually use brushes and tempera, but not today… today, I don't need any brush. With my fingers smeared with tempera, I start painting one of the few sections of the wall that are still blank. Yellow… yes, I'll use yellow… and orange… then, I'll use blue and white to paint some clouds… they must look as candid as ice, before the red blood stains them… but I won't let it happen. My hands keep moving for hours, as if they were controlled by an invisible force. Eventually, when I stop, I realize what I've painted: a winged figure in the sky, who is reaching out to a flaming sun. The figure is smiling… the smile of my brother.

…...

_Present day_

_Autumn Peachskin (18)- Citizen of District 8_

I wake up with a smile on my lips. I had a good dream: my spectacle was a great success, and my father and Penny were congratulating me. That feels good! But then my mood darkens. In order for me to succeed, I have first to survive my last Reaping. _Think positive, your seven slips are nothing compared to the situation of other people _I keep telling myself. I know that it's a cruel thought, I shouldn't feel safe just because others have more slips than me, but this is the way things are, and nothing I can do would ever change the establishment.

To dispel any negative thought, I get dressed. People are supposed to wear their best clothes on Reaping days to celebrate the Hunger Games as a festivity, but the Games are hated in every district of Panem, expect for the Career districts… and the Capitol, of course. Nevertheless, people cannot afford to express their hatred too openly, not with two failed rebellions behind their backs. No, if I wear a nice dress the day of a Reaping, it's not because the Capitol has ordered me it, it's because I've decided it, since I don't want to let myself down. In a certain sense, this is kind of a rebellion, right? Anyway, I've already decided what I'll wear today: a puffed knee-long peach-coloured dress, with which I'll match a leather red jacket and a pair of white sneakers. When I'm ready, I go downstairs to have breakfast.

"You look wonderful, Autumn!" says my sister.

"Thank you, Penny, you too," I reply.

"You seem in good spirit, Autumn," my father chimes in.

"I'm looking forward to playing tonight. I won't let the Reaping ruin my moment."

"Well, the Reaping is a torture, you see the same desperate faces every year… a smiling girl in the crowd won't hurt, I suppose, just try not to appear too happy, okay? It could be interpreted as lack of respect," he goes on in a serious tone.

"This is _your _opinion, father," I say, defiant.

"I just think that you shouldn't be so indifferent to the sufferings of Panem," he retorts, a bit annoyed.

"I'm not indifferent, I don't want the Games to condition me so completely, that's all."

"Okay, okay, I think it's enough. Shall we finish breakfast in peace?" Penelope chimes in.

No one says a word, while we're heading to the main square. Maybe I took it too far… well, I'll apologize later.

"Good luck, girls," says my father, before parting from us to mount the stage along with the other victors.

District 8's last victor is a boy called Gemini Webb, who won three years ago at age seventeen. He managed to join the Careers, and manipulated them so that they ended up arguing and killing one another. But what has been really sensational is the relationship he has started with our actual escort, Miranda Cleo. Today, she's wearing a long, blue dress with shades of turquoise and lilac. She's showing off also a series of bracelets and necklaces in gold- the same colour of her hair, styled in a wavy ponytail. Her makeup is minimal, the only noteworthy features are a pair of long, fake eyelashes, and a black eyeliner that highlights her almond-shaped eyes.

"Good morning, District 8! You cannot imagine how happy I am to be there, in my favourite district! As I always say, District 1 might produce wonderful jewels, but what could we all do without your clothes?" she chirps.

This was meant to be a witty joke about District 8's main industry- textiles-, I suppose, but no one seems to appreciate it, not even her boyfriend.

In fact, Miranda clears her throat and goes on: "Ahem… let's pick up the names of our lucky tributes, then! For the girls… Penelope Peachskin!"

When the name of my sister is called, I'm very disoriented. I look up and see that also my father is bewildered. In the meantime, Penny has mounted the stage with trembling legs. Like a bolt from the blue, it's suddenly clear to me what I have to do. I cannot let the Capitol hurt my little sister!

"I volunteer as tribute!" I shout.

"What are you doing?" Penny whispers to me, when I walk past her.

"Go back," I order her, under my breath. Luckily, she does it.

"Oh, a volunteer! Great! What's your name?" the escort asks me.

"Autumn Peachskin," I answer.

"I bet she was your sister, wasn't she?"

I nod.

"Lovely! And now for the boys… Tartan Dye!" she goes on.

A boy emerges from the thirteen-year-old section. I immediately hear an hysterical cry from the crowd. His mother, I suppose. I look at my district partner: he's not very tall, with short brown hair and dull blue eyes. He has some muscle under his long-sleeved shirt, but it's a bit undeveloped. I've never met him before… his surname is familiar to me, though. The escort anticipates my thoughts.

"Oh, Dye… you're the brother of last year's tribute, right?"

"Yes, Denim was my brother," he confirms.

I remember him. Actually, last year's edition was a disaster for District 8, both our tributes were killed in the initial bloodbath. I can't even imagine what Tartan's family is feeling at the moment, now that another son is about to be sent in the arena.

"Volunteers?" asks the escort, but no one answers. "Very well, then! I give you the tributes of District 8, Autumn Peachskin and Tartan Dye! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" she says, eventually.

My father and Penny visit me in the waiting room. My sister hugs me, teary.

"Oh, Autumn! You shouldn't have volunteered for me!" she says.

"I had to, instead," I reply.

"And what about your spectacle?"

"We'll do it when I'll come back," I answer, trying to sound convinced.

It's incredible how quickly things can change. Before the Reaping, my only concern was the success of my comedy, and now I have to think of my survival.

My father puts his hand on my shoulder. He's teary, too. "If your mother was here, she would be proud of you, Autumn," he says.

My parents worked in a makeshift hospital during the uprising. That's where they met for the first time. After the rebellion, they got married. My mother went on working as a nurse, even if my father's money was more than enough to support their family. But she didn't do it for money, she did it by vocation. About ten years ago, an outbreak of cholera spread out in District 8. Victor's Village was sealed off, but my mother insisted on helping. Unfortunately, she was infected and died in a couple of days.

"And I'm proud of you as well," adds my father.

When time's up, a peacekeeper enters the room to bring out my visitors.

"Father," I say, before he leaves me. He abandoned mentoring years ago, so he cannot follow me to the Capitol.

He turns around. "Yes?"

"I-I'm sorry for this morning… I…" I stammer.

"Stay alive, and everything will be all right," he says with a sad smile, and then leaves the room along with my sister.

…...

_Tartan Dye (13)- District 8 male tribute_

This Reaping was a sign of fate, that's for sure. My cowardice has been punished, eventually. _Please, Denim, help me from wherever you are, I don't want to die_ I think, as tears start flooding from my eyes.

My parents visit me almost immediately. They're both desperate, especially my mother. Hearing her hysterical cries again was a torture. She had struggled to overcome her depression for Denim's death, and now… and now she'll probably be forced to watch also my death. I have no illusions, I'm not making it out alive from the arena.

"Tartan, promise us that you'll be careful, don't make your brother's mistakes! Flee from the bloodbath and survive!" says my father.

"I'll do my best," I reply.

"Oh, Tartan! Please, come back!" shouts my mother.

"I'll do my best," I repeat. How blank I feel in this moment! The same feeling of last year, when my poor brother was brutally killed.

"You can make it, Tartan! When you'll come back, this painful moment will be forgotten, cause you'll be safe and we'll have a better life!" my father encourages me.

A better life? Yeah, if I win, we'll have a better life… also for Denim. We won't need to work as dyers any longer. We have done this job for generations, and several members of my family died from respiratory illnesses like tuberculosis. My parents have already some symptoms of that disease… cough, fever and so on… if I won, they could heal. No, it's not all over! I must win for them and for Denim! It can't end like this, and it won't!

* * *

**So, District 8 has two artists as tributes this year. What do you think of them and of their relationship with the art world? **

**Thank you for reading and reviewing :)**

* * *

*** The "frozen landscape with geysers" that was named by the previous Head Gamemaker in chapter 1**


	11. D9: the Rebel and the Fiancé

**Hi, everyone! It took me a while to finish this chapter. Sorry, I didn't mean to make you wait too much, but I've been a bit busy recently. Anyway, here's the Reaping of District 9, so only 4 more Reapings are left before moving to the Capitol, where you will be able to intervene in a more significant way (especially submitters). You can still submit SPONSORS for this fanfic (One and Two have already two sponsors, so could you please focus on other districts? If you're interested, of course). _Divine Punishment _is not yet closed, so you can still submit TRIBUTES (One, Three, Four, Five, and Eleven have already one tribute). Both forms are on my profile, but you can also PM me for any doubt. I gave you some advice about submissions, but feel free to choose the district you want :)**

**Enjoy your reading!**

* * *

_8 years ago_

_Pamela Field (10)- Citizen of District 9_

A gentle breeze is bringing along the noises and smells of this peaceful, starry night- the intense smell of wheat from the fields, the constant creaking of cicadas, the flow of a stream in the distance. I look up to admire the sky. How vast it is! Sometimes, I wonder…

"Hurry up, Pamela!"

I look down, and see that my little sister Rebecca is watching me with her hands on her hips.

"I don't want to be late!" she adds.

"Right," I reply.

We're heading to an old, abandoned barn, where the neighbourhood gathers together to listen to my grandfather's tales about the rebellion. Before the second uprising, my family used to be one of the richest and most influential families of District 9. We possessed several acres of cultivated land, but we lost everything we had, when the districts were defeated. As a punishment for being rebels, the Field family ended up working as seasonal farmers for "the new rich"- those who took advantage of the districts' defeat. Anyway, my family doesn't want the rebels' beliefs to die, that's why my grandfather keeps on telling about them. But it's a dangerous choice, if peacekeepers found out that he's practically inciting people against the Capitol… I don't want to think of what would happen in that case.

"Oh, here are my girls, the heirs of an important past!" our grandfather greets us, as soon as we step into the barn.

Rebecca runs up, and hugs him. "What will you tell us tonight?" she asks him, eager as usual.

"That's a surprise," he answers, smiling.

I look at him. Despite his age- he's in his seventies- he's still vigorous, his light blue eyes are always curious and brimming with life, although time has left its marks on his face.

"And what about you, Pamela? How you doing?" he asks me, interrupting my thoughts.

"I'm fine," I reply, smiling slightly.

"Good. Shall we start?" he offers.

I nod. I sit on the floor near Rebecca and other kids. My grandfather takes one of the few chairs, and sits in the middle. As usual, he begins by emphasizing how cruel and unfair the Hunger Games are. Yeah, I agree with him, the Capitol is cruel and unfair, when it forces 26 kids to kill one another for fun, but… but, on the other hand, the Games are our punishment for rebelling. If the districts hadn't rebelled the first time, the Hunger Games wouldn't have existed, right? But I'm well aware that, if I spoke my mind, everyone would glare at me, so I keep silent.

"They take away our kids from us, but, by doing so, they kill also _their _future! Can you understand how insane the Capitol is? That's why we rebelled! We fought for a better future, a future without Hunger Games, without any bloodbath of the sort!" says my grandfather.

"Bloodbath" is a word used to refer to the initial stage in the arena, when all the tributes fight to get supplies from the cornucopia. As a matter of fact, children aren't normally allowed to watch the Games, if they're not yet of Reaping age like me. But, again, my family makes an exception… it's a way of fuelling our hatred towards the Capitol, but it doesn't work on me. Watching the Games scares me, that's all. I can't believe that tributes are actually able to kill. Would I find the strength to do it as well, if I ended up in the arena?

Suddenly, a boy runs in the barn, interrupting my grandfather's discourse. "Peacekeepers! They're approaching!" he shouts, and then bends forward, panting.

Panic spreads. People start to flee as fast as they can, parents try to find their children to get them to safety… but Rebecca and I are alone, our parents stayed home. The only person who's still calm is our grandfather.

"Don't panic! They want me!" he says, but nobody listens to him.

"We'd better leave, Rebecca," I tell my sister.

"But we haven't heard the tale yet!" she complains.

"Another time. Now, come with me. Those peacekeepers have to talk to our grandfather, we mustn't interfere," I insist.

"Pamela is right. I'll be okay, don't worry, kid," he says, pinching Rebecca's cheek.

I lead my sister outside. Before leaving, I turn around to watch my grandfather. He nods. Then, I start running in the opposite direction of the barn, holding Rebecca's hand.

"Why are you running?" she asks me.

"I'll tell you later. Now, run!" I answer, teary.

"Why are you crying? He's not in danger, is he?"

"No… he… h-he's not in danger," I stammer.

Rebecca must have understood that I'm lying, because she stops, leaving my hand. She doesn't say anything, she just stares at me. Suddenly, she starts running towards to barn.

"No! Come back!" I shout, as I'm following her back to barn.

We get there just in time for seeing that the peacekeepers have arrested our grandfather, and they're now taking him away. When he sees us, his eyes widen with terror. But it's just for an instant, he immediately regains his usual cool.

"Gran…" Rebecca is about to call him, but I manage to tape her mouth shut.

"Do you know those kids?" a peacekeeper asks him.

"I've never seen them before," he replies, looking down.

My sister is squirming like crazy to break free. She wants to protest, but I'm holding her tight, so that she cannot neither move nor speak.

"You'd better leave, that's not your business!" a peacekeeper tells us.

"We have to do what he told us. It's the best thing for both of us," I whisper to Rebecca.

She seems to understand, since she calms down. We both leave without turning around. When we have walked away enough not be heard, my sister starts asking questions again.

"What do they want from him? He didn't do anything wrong!" she protests.

"He did, instead. He shouldn't have told all those stories about the rebellion," I reply.

"They were just stories!"

"You're still too naïve to understand, Rebecca."

"No! I know exactly what happened! Our grandpa is innocent, but you abandoned him like a coward!" she retorts, angry.

"We couldn't do anything to stop the peacekeepers. But you don't need to worry, I'm pretty sure they'll forgive him," I say, trying to soothe her anger.

"You're a liar!" she shouts, and then runs home.

She's right, I'm a liar, I know that there's no hope for our grandfather. How can I be taken seriously, after all, if my eyes are full of tears?

…...

_Present day_

_Adam Thorn (18)- Citizen of District 9_

I'm standing right outside her house, waiting for her to come out. I'm nervous as a pupil on the first day of school. Oh, how silly I feel in this moment, fidgeting like tomorrow doesn't exist! I try to dispel any negative thought by focusing on the house. It's truly a pity that one of the most important families of District 9- or, rather, one that used to be very important- ended up living in such a shack. But _c'est la vie_, I suppose. Seasonal farmers live is small villages scattered across the land, but they have no regular contract, so they're payed only when employed, for instance during harvest. For the rest of year, they have to count on tesserae to live, unless they find another job. Other farmers are luckier in the sense that whether they possess a piece of land or they work full time for greater landowners, their life is surer. That's the way things are, have always been, and will also be in the future.

In the meantime, she has got out of her house. She's wearing a striped, knee-long, light blue dress, which would look prettier, if the fabric wasn't worn down. Anyway, the dress is tight to the waist, bringing out her slender figure. She has combed her blonde hair in two braids… its golden colour reminds me of ripe wheat, whereas her blue-grey eyes have the same colour of the sky after a tempest. She is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. The freckles she has on her nose make her look younger than she is, but I know that she's pretty mature.

"Rebecca," I greet her.

"What's up?" she replies in a rather annoyed tone. She has broken the spell… again.

"I must tell you something," I go on, ignoring her tone.

"Yeah, yesterday you told me the same," she says, rolling her eyes.

I clear my throat. "I've been waiting till my last Reaping, because I'll be free to do whatever I want after today, and what I want is you, Rebecca."

"What?" she says, almost whispering.

"Will you marry me?" I ask her, taking a gold ring out of my pocket.

It cost me a fortune, since it comes from District 1. On the inside, you can see a little swan engraved *****. They told me it has been crafted by one of the best jewellers of District 1, and I think it was worth the cost.

"You're mad!"

I hold her hand. "Rebecca, I know it seems a folly to you, but I've already talked to your parents and…" I try to explain her, but she slaps me with her free hand.

"Why did you bother asking me, then? You've already bought me, haven't you?" she shouts, beside herself.

I massage my cheek. "'Cause I do care about you. I know our relationship has never been easy due to our families, but this is a great opportunity to reconcile."

"Reconcile!? Your family sabotaged the rebellion from the very beginning, and then it got rich by exploiting the disgrace of its own district!"

"I'm not responsible for what my family did, all I know is that we cannot live in the past, it's time to go on with our lives. Think about it… the old and the new that reconcile… your family could finally return to what it once was!" I say, enthusiastic.

"Why don't you ask Pamela? She's your age, and she has never understood the rebellion, she would be a perfect wife," she offers.

"I don't love Pamela," I rebut, shaking my head.

"Well, I don't love you either!"

"But you will."

She glares at me. I hold my hands up in an act of defence before adding: "Don't get me wrong, I'm not asking you to fall in love with me with the snap of a finger, I'm just giving you the opportunity of having a better life for you and your family. Believe me, convincing my parents was hard, therefore I hope my efforts weren't vain."

"Marrying you, Adam, would mean betraying the rebels' beliefs and…"

"Those beliefs could get you killed, as it happened to your grandfather!" I retort, interrupting her.

But I immediately wish I could choke on my last words, when I see a tear on her face. "I… I'm sorry, I didn't mean that… that was a low blow," I apologize.

Rebecca doesn't say anything in response, she just stares at me.

"I want you to be happy, you deserve a better life," I say.

"Yeah, a better life without Reapings and Hunger Games, but there's no way, unfortunately," she replies with a shrug.

_Ah, I didn't want to play this card, but you give me no choice, Rebecca._ "If you married me, you wouldn't need any tesserae. After this Reaping, you will be the only one of your family to be still eligible, and I… I don't want you to risk your life… I love you, Rebecca, why would I ask you otherwise? This marriage would be a challenge also for me," I say, kneeling down.

She blushes, embarrassed. "Wh-what are you doing? That's mean… I…" she stammers.

"Please, Rebecca, I'd be the happiest man on earth, if you said yes."

She doesn't say a word, but she lets me put the ring on her finger, so I'll take that as a yes.

…...

_Present day_

_Rebecca Field (16)- Citizen of District 9_

I stare at the gold ring on my finger. I shake my head, unbelieving. Did I really accept to marry Adam? It can't be true. I wonder what my grandfather would think of it. Would he stand up to this marriage? Or would he be happy for me?

I make back to my house. My family is watching me, then their eyes move to the ring on my finger. They don't say a word, they're waiting for me to break the silence, evidently.

"You're traitors!" I say, angry.

My parents approach me. "Dearie, this is a great opportunity for you," says my mother.

"For _us_," I correct her, annoyed.

"We couldn't reject such a generous proposal," explains my father.

"And nobody thought of asking my opinion, first," I add.

"Adam has asked you… or, at least, he told us he would," she says.

"It was all a farce! You had already set the deal up! I had no choice but accept his proposal!" I protest.

"Adam is not a bad guy, and he truly cares about you," she goes on, trying to comfort me. But it doesn't work.

"Yes, he wouldn't ask you, if he didn't care, he could have chosen to…"

"… marry a rich girl?" I finish his utterance.

"Don't talk like that!"

"I'd rather starve to death than accept his charity! His family has betrayed us all!"

"Rebecca!"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ruin your great deal, but I won't forgive you, remember that!" I say, and then leave the house.

"Rebecca! Come back!" shouts my mother, worried, while she's following me outside.

I turn around. "We have to go to the Reaping, you'd better hurry up, I'll be there," I say.

On Reaping days, there's a bus service to bring the farmers who live in the villages scattered here and there to the main square, but I won't take a bus, I need to walk on my own. I know that Adam isn't a bad guy, but all this stuff about marriage has shocked me. What should I do? It's not too late to say no, right? I look at the ring again. How would he react, if I said no? It would certainly sadden him. No, I cannot do it to him, can I? I don't want to get married, but the situation is not as bad as it seems, right? Maybe… maybe I could ask him to wait, he would understand, wouldn't he? _Don't get me wrong, I'm not asking you to fall in love with me with the snap of a finger, I'm just giving you the opportunity of having a better life for you and your family_ … he spoke so, after all.

In the meantime, I've got to the main square. I show up to the peacekeepers, then reach my section. Some girls are chatting animatedly to ease their tension, I suppose, but I'm not in the right mood to talk. The mayor makes his usual boring speech, then the escort from the Capitol- a man in a ridiculous costume that seems to be made of popcorns- mounts the stage to pick up the names of the reaped tributes. I wonder how he can do his job so lightly. The lives of two people are about to be ruined forever by him, but he doesn't care at all, he just stands on the stage, grinning as if the Reaping was funny… and the worst part of it is that it might be so to him.

"Our female tribute is… Rebecca Field!"

It can't be true, the escort has just called my name! Yeah, I've lost count of how many tesserae I've taken out to help my family, but I've never thought that I would get reaped. I move towards the stage, trying to look unbothered, but, deeper down, all I want is punching the escort in the face to make that hateful grin of his disappear. But I can't, I've got no choice but calm down. Seems that today I have always to give up.

"Does anyone want to volunteer?"

Dead silence, just for a change. No one would ever volunteer for a rebel, either my sister.

"Very well, then! Let's move on to boys! Our male tribute is…"

"I volunteer as tribute!" someone shouts, interrupting the escort.

A boy emerges from the eighteen-year-old section. It's Adam! What's the hell is he doing? It's his last Reaping! Did he volunteer for me? No, it can't be. Yeah, he said he loves me, but he cannot be that mad to risk his life in the Games!

"Oh, a volunteer from an outer district, that's really a surprise!" comments the escort, excited.

"My name is Adam Thorn," he says.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the tributes of District 9, Rebecca Field and Adam Thorn! As always, happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" says the escort, then he addresses Adam and me: "Shake hands, you two!"

I shake hands with him. He's staring at me, but I cannot understand how he feels in this moment… he just looks… I don't know, kind of sad, I suppose. But I've got no time to speak to him now, since we're immediately led inside the Justice Building, where we're assigned a separate waiting room to say goodbye to our families and friends. My parents and Pamela are the only people who come to visit me before I leave. It doesn't surprise me, thought… the Capitol is certainly aware of the rebellious past of my family, therefore being associated with me is inconvenient. District 9 is a den of cowards! As if they had never wanted to rebel…

"Rebecca!" says my mother, trying to hug me, but I avoid her.

"I'm still angry," I explain, but my tone doesn't sound convinced, I know that I'm about to cry.

"We'll make it up as soon as you come back. Now, let us tell you goodbye," rebuts my father, calmly. That said, he hugs me, and I don't resist this time.

My mother joins our hug. "You're such a brave girl, Rebecca, your grandfather would be proud of you," she says, teary.

She knows my weak point. In fact, I start crying as soon as she names my grandfather. I was so fond of him! My parents hug me tighter, trying to comfort me. "He'll protect you, but you'll need to do your best to survive! You're a fighter, Rebecca, we know that you can make it!" says my father.

I break their embrace, wiping away my tears. "I'll do my best, I won't go down without a fight!" I state with renewed ardour.

"That's our girl!" says my father.

Then, my attention is drawn by my sister, who has stayed aside all the time, trying to hide her tears. I approach her. "If I don't come back, give this to the Thorns. I don't want them to think that we're opportunists," I tell her, taking the ring off.

She takes it. "I won't need to do it, cause you're going to win, right?" she says.

"I can't make you any promises, but I'll do my best."

"That's all I need to know."

I look at her, trying to hold back my tears. "Don't worry, I… I'm not going to bear a grudge because you didn't volunteer for me, you're not ready for the arena."

"Who is?" she replies.

"Just… remember that… t-that I… you're my sister, and I don't want to leave without telling you goodbye," I stammer.

She hugs me. "Neither do I. I love you, sis."

…...

_Adam Thorn (18)- District 9 male tribute_

The waiting room consists of a simple wooden room with some couches and a window at the back. I'm pretty sure some peacekeepers are right outside the window to make sure tributes don't try to escape. As I'm getting closer to the couches, I notice that on the wooden planks on the wall there are some ears of wheat engraved.

I'd like to sit down and relax a bit, but my parents storm into the waiting room, followed by my little brother Abel.

"Why did you volunteer, Adam? It was your last Reaping, you could be safe now!" protests my mother.

Why did I volunteer? To be sincere, when Rebecca was reaped, my first thought was that I couldn't lose her, my lips moved before I could even think of what I was doing.

"It was for that girl, right?" adds my father in an enquiring tone.

"I love her, and you cannot condemn me for it!" I say.

"This childish crush could get you killed! Can you understand it?" she goes on.

"That's not a crush, mom! I wouldn't have asked her to marry me otherwise!" I retort.

"We let you do it because we want you to be happy, but… but now it's all over, that was the last rash decision we let you make. Listen to me, your life is too important, so don't dare to sacrifice it for that girl! Now, you're in love with her, so you cannot understand, but you will. When you'll come back, we'll find a proper bride for you. Is that understood?" he says, putting his hands on my shoulders.

"Rebecca's life is important too!"

He sighs. "But not as yours. Everyone knows what her family did, her name has already condemned her, they cannot let her win."

"That's true, Adam, even allying with her would be inconvenient," adds my mother.

What should I do? I cannot tell them that I do want to ally with Rebecca, and that I do want her to survive. My life was so empty before I met her. Many people envy me because I'm rich, but what's the point of being rich, if you're alone? I've got nothing to fight for except Rebecca… or, at least… my eyes meet those of my little brother, who is trying to hold back his tears. He's only thirteen, but he's clever enough to understand that I might choose Rebecca's life over mine.

I approach him, kneeling down to watch him right in the eye. "Sorry if we spoke up too much," I apologize.

"Are… are you going to come back?" he asks me.

"I'll do my best, I promise," I answer, messing up with his hair.

"And Rebecca?"

"She's special to me, that's why I'll try to protect her."

"When she'll stab you in the back, you'll see how special she is!" my mother chimes in.

I ignore her comment. "Don't listen to her, Rebecca is a good girl. Sometimes, adults say nasty things, but they don't mean them," I whisper to Abel.

"Be careful, Adam," he says.

"I will."

Yes, my brother Abel is a person for whom I would fight to come back.

* * *

**So, District 9 gives us a troubled relationship. How do you think Rebecca and Adam will behave during the Games? Will they ally or rival?**

**Please, leave a review, if you liked this chapter. The more reviews tributes get, the more points they earn. Besides, your feedback is important to me, so let me know your opinion, please. Thank you a lot for reading a reviewing :)**

**Submissions are still available!**

* * *

*** The Whiteswans' logo. See chapter 3 (D1 Reaping)**


	12. D10: the Rancher and the Rejected

_A couple of days before the Reaping_

_Timothy "Tim" Cunningham (18)- Citizen of District 10_

I'm riding Furia- the black stallion my parents gave me for my eighteenth birthday. He's a superb horse. To be sincere, taming him wasn't easy at first, but now he seems to understand who's master. Anyway, I never miss a chance to ride him, to let him show all his strength. While the wind is lashing my face, I get into symbiosis with Furia. I can feel his powerful heartbeat and his swift legs running faster and faster. Sometimes, I envy him, because he's without worries, he doesn't need to worry about his family, he doesn't need to… hell, to worry about the imminent Hunger Games! I know the odds are in my favour, yet… this danger exists, and seven slips are seven slips, after all.

I have a little break to water the horse. Then, I relax on the grass, under the shade of a tree, to which I tie Furia. I look around. In the distance, I see some cowboys lead the cattle to pasture. District 10 has a rather dry weather, but, luckily, the ranch of my family is located in a fertile valley bathed by several water streams. Not surprisingly, it is called Paradise Ranch. Yeah, my life could be idyllic, if it wasn't for the Hunger Games. Killing people just for fun… the bare idea makes me feel smothered. That's why I'm here, I need to have a ride to mind off. I don't want to think of the Reaping, I don't want to think of those poor tributes who will be reaped, and sent to the arena in a few days. I can only hope that nobody I know will meet this cruel fate.

At sunset, I return home. I get off Furia, and lead him to the stables. There, I start brushing him to get the dust and sweat out of his black coat.

"Leave it to me, Tim," says a voice behind my back.

"That's Mr. Cunningham to you," I reply, without looking at her.

"Forgive me, sir."

She starts brushing Furia as well. "Maybe you made him run too much," she comments, pointing at the sweat on his coat.

This time, I glare at her, trying to look as annoyed as possible. "You've got nothing better to do, Estrella?"

"You look tired, Mr. Cunningham. Leave it to me."

"Yeah, I'm tired… I'm tired to see you here," I retort.

"Please, I need this job!" she replies, begging.

"I know it, that's why you still work for my family, but you're pushing it!"

"I was sincere, when… when I-I said… when I told you," she stammers, blushing.

"I don't care," I reply, as coldly as ever.

"But you should. We were friends…"

"You said it well, we _were _friends… until you ruined all with your breakout!"

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have told you, but I couldn't hide my feelings any longer!"

My eyes meet hers, which are almost as dark as Furia's coat. "Nothing of the sort can happen between us, and you know it," I say.

"Because I'm not rich?" she enquires, defiant.

"You need to learn your place, Estrella. We belong to two different worlds, we can be nothing more than friends… or, at least, we _could_, because, to be sincere, I don't think things will ever go back the way they were before. I cannot be friends with you, knowing what you feel for me, so we'd better keep our distance for your own sake," I explain.

"Who told you that? Your family?" she replies, angry.

"I don't like your tone, you'd better calm down before you say something that you're going to regret," I warn her.

"Tim…"

"Mr. Cunningham," I correct her, and then I add: "Sooner you learn to show respect the better. Now, you can go home, Estrella, that's enough for today. I expect you to come back tomorrow with a more appropriate attitude, do you understand?"

"Yes, I do… Mr. Cunningham."

"Good."

As Estrella is getting out from the stables, I start wondering whether I've been too harsh. I didn't mean to hurt her, but she gave me no choice. When I first met her at school, I thought we could be friends regardless of the social distance between us. But I was wrong. She has fallen in love with me… or, at least, she _claims _she has. Deeper down, I know that Estrella is not a liar or an opportunist, yet I cannot help but think that she's well aware of which benefits she would have, if we were more than just friends. In any case, I don't feel the same about her, and sooner she accepts it the better. Yeah, keeping our distance is the best decision to make, for her but also for me. We cannot go on like that. My parents have always told me that love is fickle, and that you cannot decide the spend all your life with a person just because you think you love her. Love and passion will fade away at some point, and if there's nothing else behind, it's a failure. They say that respect and loyalty are the most important things in a relationship. You need to have a strong motivation to start it… making a propitious marriage is a strong motivation. Arranged marriages have always worked, therefore I will let my parents arrange mine, as their parents did for them. After all, I cannot trust such decisions to my youth, I need someone with more experience to lead me.

…...

_A couple of weeks before the Reaping_

_Estrella Sol (17)- Citizen of District 10_

I don't want to go to school today. How can I face him after he rejected me? Yesterday, when I confessed my feelings for him, I knew that I would shock him, but I didn't expect him to react like that. That's not of Tim. Despite his social position, he has never been arrogant… yet, he told me I wasn't enough for him. I thought he would appreciate my sincerity… pretending that everything was okay was an illusion, he would find out anyway. I don't want to go to school today. I'll call in sick. I just want to stay in bed, curled up like a cat. But I can't. As usual, my grandma comes to wake me up, but today she's gentler than she usually is. She even sits on my bed, caressing my back. Of course, she knows what happened.

"You know that staying in bed is useless, don't you?" she says.

Since I don't reply, she goes on: "It wasn't you who made a mistake."

I uncover my face to watch her right in the eye. "It's my fault, instead," I say, wiping away my tears.

"No, it isn't. If he cannot love you for who you are, then he doesn't deserve you," she rebuts.

"He doesn't love me, and I cannot force him."

"That's true, but there are many ways of saying it. He could have been more sensitive."

"I don't know… the way he spoke to me… it wasn't of him, I wonder…"

"Don't justify him, he has no excuse," she says, interrupting me.

"What should I do?" I ask with a sigh.

"First of all, you should get ready for school. Only cowards hide in the face of difficulty. You don't want to be a coward, do you?"

"Of course not," I reply, while I'm getting up.

"That's my girl! Now, get dressed, so that we can have breakfast together!" she says with a smile, and then leaves the room.

I wear the school uniform- a white shirt with the school logo, and a long, brown skirt for girls, whereas boys wear the same white shirt but with brown trousers. I comb my dark hair in a braid. I look at my reflection in the dusty mirror. What's wrong with me? Maybe my skin is too olive, maybe I'm not tall enough… or is it that little mole on my left cheek?

"Estrella!" my grandma calls me from the kitchen.

I snort and join her. She has already prepared breakfast- a cup of milk, bread and butter. She has added some sugar to the butter.

"How did you get sugar?" I ask her, as soon as I taste it in the butter.

Like all the products coming from other districts, sugar is quite expensive. Not that meat is any different. Despite the fact that District 10 specializes in livestock, poor families can rarely afford to buy meat, because most of our production is sent to the Capitol.

She smiles in response. "Yesterday, it went well to the market, so I thought you'd like to eat something different for breakfast," she explains.

On Sundays, there's a great food market on the main square. It is meant for selling products like meat or cheese, but you can find all kinds of stands. Actually, you should have the permission to sell your products, but stopping all the illegal sellers like my grandma is hard, also because peacekeepers tend to turn blind eye, since they're the first to buy from them. My grandma sells necklaces, which are made of all kinds of things she can find around, from plastic beads to feathers. Once, she managed- don't know how- to find some little shells, and made such a wonderful necklace that, when she finally sold it, we had no money problems for months. I usually help her, but yesterday I was with Timothy.

"You should have saved that money, we can live without sugar," I say.

"Strange gratitude," she comments.

I snort. "You know what I mean."

"I spent that money, because I knew we could afford it. Now, eat your breakfast, and keep your chin up! Remember that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger! You're too sensitive, Estrella, your heart is an open book… I'm not saying that it's a bad thing, but you need to understand who you can open up to and who not, otherwise they could take advantage of your weakness."

"That's not of Tim!" I exclaim.

"You said the same about his reaction. Sometimes, people are different from what they seem… take it from someone who has been down that road before."

I go to school by foot. Luckily, it is located on the outskirts, not too far from where I live. I don't know if we could afford a bus pass, school fees are already a burden to us. But, as my grandma is used to saying, school is poor people's best chance to have a decent life, therefore she's made sacrifices so that I could attend it. But I had to help her somehow. She has taken care of me since my parents' death… if it hadn't been for her, I would have ended up in a community home. She's too old to have a permanent job, though, that's why I work part-time at Tim's ranch. Mornings at school, afternoons at Paradise Ranch… my life is definitely busy, but I'll do anything I can to support my family.

Schooldays are all the same, the only class I really like is that of Panem's history, but today I cannot concentrate. When the bell rings signalling that it's break time, I immediately go to the courtyard, hoping to see him. But he avoids me on purpose. What should I do?

"Forget him," says a voice behind my back.

I turn around. It's my best friend Celina, who's smoking a cigarette. I've told her thousands of times that she shouldn't, but she's too stubborn to listen to my advice.

"He's out of your reach, Estrella," she continues.

"How can you…?"

"How can I know that he rejected you, if you didn't tell me anything? Just look at your face! Do you think I wouldn't notice those reddish eyes? I'm your best friend!"

"Right."

"Do you want to smoke?" she asks, offering me her cigarette.

I don't like smoking, but today I'll make an exception. The only problem is that I immediately start coughing, as soon as I put the cigarette in my mouth.

Celina chuckles. "You'll learn."

I frown in response. The only thing I would like to learn right now is how to deal with boys.

…...

_Present day_

_Timothy "Tim" Cunningham (18)- Citizen of District 10_

I've gone out for a ride with Furia early this morning. _One more time and then I'll be safe for the rest of my life..._ I keep telling myself. I cannot help but worry about the Reaping, since it involves me and both my siblings this year- Rachel for the third time, and Jason… this year, it's his first Reaping. I remember my first Reaping, I was scared to death, even if I had only one slip. No one I knew ended up in the arena, but both our tributes were too young and hopeless to survive. The following year, District 10 was luckier. We had a victor, Selena Wellington, who's our current mentor. Since then, no one else from Ten has won the Hunger Games.

I come back home when the sun has already risen. My mother has prepared a robust breakfast- bacon, eggs, French toasts, fruit juice… you're only spoilt for choice. My siblings are already dressed up in their Reaping outfits, and they're now having breakfast. Jason is wolfing down it… I know what it means, he always eats like that when he's nervous.

I put my hand on his shoulder. "Hey, kid, you should slow down a bit," I advise him.

"You're not hungry?" he replies.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure, Tim?" asks my mother.

"Yeah, my stomach's in a knot. I'll eat something after the Reaping," I answer.

"Go have a shower, then, it might relax you a bit," offers my father.

I do what he told me, but it doesn't work. I'm not relaxed at all. But I have to face the Reaping, no matter what I feel. I choose my outfit- a simple, short-sleeved, green shirt, jeans, and dark sneakers. I don't want to attract too much attention. I sincerely hope that the cameras won't even frame me. We go to the main square by car. Normally, our chauffeur would drive, but, since he has the day off due to the Reaping, it's my father's turn. He's the only one of our family who can drive a car, by the way. For my part, I've never been interested in cars. I take it only when it's absolutely necessary.

It takes half an hour to get to the square. Everyone looks so nervous, only Rachel is serene, but it doesn't surprise me, she's definitely the bravest among us. Our father parks the car. While he's going look for a place in the crowd along with our mother, my siblings and I reach our respective sections. We're are all eligible this year, and this fact fills me with a growing concern. I look at Selena Wellington, as she's taking her place onstage. She's chewing something, but I don't need to guess what it is… everyone in Ten knows that she's addicted to chewing tobacco. Clearly, Selena doesn't care about the Reaping, since she seems to be wearing the first things she has randomly found in her closet- a long, olive-green mackintosh (but is it not too hot to wear it?), a worn down, blue T-shirt that exposes her belly, a plaid skirt, black nylons, and black shoes with wedges. But the escort is even worse than her, he's dressed up as a cow full of sequins!

"Hi, everyone! Welcome to the Reaping of the 99th annual Hunger Games!" he shouts.

Why does he speak so loudly? He has the mic!

"As always, we're here to celebrate the bravery of our tributes, who face many difficulties in order to win! It's time to call them onstage!" he continues, his voice shaking with emotion.

He starts with the boys this time. He rummages in the ball, and then chooses a slip of paper. Everyone in the crowd is holding their breath. Why does he not hurry up?

"Jason Cunningham!"

No, it can't be… only one slip, only one slip… and the escort chose that one! I stare at Jason, as he's approaching the stage. His blue-green eyes are full of terror. When our eyes meet, I get what I have to do.

"I volunteer!" I shout, before he mounts onstage.

I get out of my section.

"Oh, a volunteer! Excellent!" comments the escort, excited.

"No, Tim! You can't do it! I won't let you!" says Jason, getting in my way to stop me.

I push him aside, trying not to hurt him. "I volunteer!" I repeat.

Jason doesn't want to give up. Luckily, Rachel intervenes, and takes him back to his section. I nod at her. She's trying to appear strong, but I can see that she's about to cry.

"We got it, we got it! There's no need to shout like that!" says the escort, when I'm finally onstage.

_Coming from him…_

"My name is Timothy Cunningham! Jason is my brother… I won't let anyone hurt my family, that's why I volunteered!"

"How brave! I think our tribute deserves a round of applause, doesn't he?" says the escort, addressing the crowd below.

Someone applauds, someone just nods… but I don't care, Jason is safe, that's the most important thing.

"Now, it's girls' turn!" the escort goes on.

_Please, not Rachel, I couldn't stand it_… and it's not Rachel indeed, it's Estrella Sol! No, it can't be… Estrella has been reaped! The odds are not in my favour today, that's for sure. I avoid looking at her. The escort asks for volunteers, but no one answers.

"I give you the tributes of District 10, Timothy Cunningham and Estrella Sol! As always, happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" he says, eventually.

Once in the Justice Building, we're immediately assigned a waiting room for visitors. Mine is a bit creepy, with the head of a bull hanging above a fake mantelpiece. Luckily, my family visits me, diverting my attention from that ugliness. My parents hug me.

"Oh, Tim, my son!" says my mother, teary.

"We're so proud of you, you're the best son a parent could ever have," adds my father.

She breaks our embrace to watch me right in the eye. "Promise us that you'll try to win… that you'll try to come back home alive!"

"I promise. You know that I'm strong, mum, they'd better not underestimate me!" I reply, trying to sound as self-confident as possible.

"Once they'll see your strength, they won't. But you'll need to be careful, Tim! Strength can make you a target! Find some allies, if you want, but don't trust them, because they'll try to kill you at the end!" he points out.

They don't say anything about Estrella. Of course, they don't know that we are... we were friends. They wouldn't approve.

"You shouldn't have volunteered for me," says Jason, at some point.

His eyes are full of tears. That's something that really breaks my heart, and I have to fight hard to avoid crying as well.

"I had to, instead. You know, you're my little brother… no one can hurt you, expect myself, of course," I rebut with a smile, messing up with his hair.

"I'm not little!" he protests.

"You're right, Jason. You're the man of the house now, you'll have to help dad with the ranch. Promise me that you'll do your best, and I'll promise you that I'll win for you."

"Deal."

Then, it's Rachel's turn. She hugs me.

"See you soon, Tim," she whispers.

"See you soon," I whisper back.

You don't need many words to speak to Rachel, yet I wish I could find something more to tell her.

…...

_Estrella Sol (17)- District 10 female tribute_

Timothy is my district partner, the odds are not in my favour, doesn't matter what the escort says. How can I even think of fighting against him?

My thoughts are interrupted by Celina, who hugs me tight as soon as she sees me. She smells of smoke, but I don't care. She's crying, whereas I'm just… I don't know… I'm scared stiff, I suppose… so stiff that I can't even shed a tear.

"That's so unfair! You signed up for tesserae just to help your family, and you get this!" she says.

"Hey, it's not the end of the world…"

She breaks the embrace. "How can you be so calm?" she asks me.

"I haven't realized what happened yet, I suppose," I reply with a shrug.

No, I've realized what happened, but panicking would be useless. Besides, I don't want anyone to worry about me more than is necessary. I need to be strong for those I love.

"What are you going to do with Tim?"

"I don't know and, honestly, I don't want to think of him right now. Celina, you have to promise me that you'll look after my grandma while I'm away… I-I don't know… I don't know, if I come back… it's a great responsibility, b-but…" I stammer, as tears start flooding from my eyes.

"I'll do my best, I promise," she says with a nod.

Then, she pulls a necklace out of her pocket, and gives it to me. It is made of white beads and feathers. It's the necklace my grandma usually wears, the one that I made for her! "Your grandma wants you to have this," says Celina in a sad tone.

"Thanks, but how… where is she?"

Since Celina doesn't answer, I start worrying. "Where is she, Celina?" I insist.

She looks down. "Your grandma… after you were reaped, she felt bad… she has been taken to the hospital."

* * *

**Ok, I know that finishing a chapter with such a twist is cruel, but, don't worry, you'll find out how this story goes on as soon as possible. Anyway, the relationship between Estrella and Tim reminds a bit of that of Rebecca and Adam from District 9, but it shows, let's say, another aspect of our main theme (love), namely the pain of being rejected. What do you think about it? Speaking of love, are there any aspects of this theme you'd like me to write about in the following chapters?**

**Thank you a lot for reading, reviewing, and also for submitting :) **


	13. D11: the Blossom and the Breadwinner

_Last year_

_Benjamin "Benjie" Seeds (14)- Citizen of District 11_

A cold drizzle is falling on our heads. Even if we've got umbrella and warm clothes, I can feel its damp penetrating my bones. But today is an important day, we cannot stay at home. Some weeks ago, my little sister Maya did a test to get into a private school, and today they'll put out the results. I'm going with her to see them. Actually, private schools are far more expensive than public ones, but they ensure a far better education. Those who graduate from them won't end up working in the orchards, that's for sure. I've never liked studying, that's why I've dropped school… but Maya is a whole other story. She's clever and dutiful, I'm pretty sure she'll make it. We're not a wealthy family- just another family who works in the orchards like many others in our district- but we'll do anything we can to support her. She has a future.

"Benjie..." she says at some point.

"Yes?"

"What if I hadn't passed the test?" Maya asks me in a worried tone.

"You certainly have," I reply.

"But what if I hadn't?" she insists.

"Nothing would change. We wouldn't stop loving you just because you didn't pass a test," I say.

"But I would disappoint you," she retorts.

I stop. "Not at all, Maya! You were brave to try, and we're proud of you!"

"Thank you… sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"You don't need to apologize, a bit of anxiety is normal," I say, interrupting her.

We resume our walk in silence. She looks relieved. I sincerely hope she made it; she deserves to attend that school, because she has always committed to study. Failing would certainly break her heart, and I don't want that to happen. She has studied a lot for that test, we're ready to make sacrifices to pay the school fees… can the odds be in our favour, for once?

We get to the school, and enter it. Hanging on a wall, there's a long list of names in alphabetic order. Beside every name, the result of the test, either "passed" or "failed". Many people are huddled before the list, looking for the name they're interested in. Both adults and children are wearing fine clothes. This school must be renowned, I don't think they expect a poor girl to be able to attend it, but Maya will surprise them all!

"We'll wait until the crowd disperses," I say.

"Okay," she replies, uneasy.

I get closer to her. "Is everything all right?"

"I… I-I don't know what to expect… the test was difficult, a-and I… I…" she stammers.

I put my hands on her shoulders. "Everything gonna be okay. We'll watch the results together. Do you want me to kick one of those rich asses? They might let us through, in this way."

"You don't need to be so vulgar, Benjie!" she complains.

"I've cheered you up, at least," I retort.

She shakes her head in disapproval, but a slight smile has formed on her lips. Yes, I've cheered her up. When we finally manage to read the list, I start feeling anxious. The names are ordered under the family name, so we have to look for letter s.

SEEDS MAYA...PASSED

I can't believe it! Maya has truly made it!

…...

_Some months before the Reaping_

_Tobias Jackson (13)- Citizen of District 11_

Working in the orchards is truly a hard job. You have to get up at dawn, and you finish working at dusk… for a meagre wage that can hardly support a family, especially if it's large. Mine is of only three people, but I've become the man of the house since my father's death, so the responsibility of supporting it lays completely on my shoulders. My mother has not fully recovered from his death, and my little sister Flo is too young to work. But I don't mind being the breadwinner of my family, it makes me feel important. I can remember the day of my father's death as if it were yesterday…

_"Where's my father? Why did they take him away?" I desperately ask my mother._

_But she doesn't say a word in response, she just stays seated, her dark eyes staring off into space._

_"Please, answer me!" I insist, shaking her._

_Nothing._

_Out of the corner of my eye, I see my little sister Flo peer into the room, leaning on the door. She has a worried expression on her tiny face, she seems almost scared. I get closer to her, and bend down. _

_"Don't worry, Flo, I just need to talk to mum. Go to bed now," I gently whisper to her._

_"You said daddy was taken away," she says, sad and worried._

_ "I told him… I told him not to protest… but… he didn't listen to me. The crop failure, all those job cuts… he couldn't stand this predicament… and now… and now…" says my mother, and then bursts into tears._

_"Please, Flo, go to bed now! I'll look after mum, that's just one of her breakdowns," I tell my sister._

_There must be something in my expression or in my tone that told her that she has to do what I said, because she leaves the room without saying a word._

_"They took him away, because he dared to protest… they killed him, Tobias… they killed him… and now… what will become of us?" …_

… "Tobias!"

I'm suddenly dragged back into reality. I look down. Jacob- a fellow worker- is looking at me with a shadow of reproach on his face.

"You know how peacekeepers treat idlers, don't you?" he points out.

"Yes… sorry… I was just thinking," I apologize.

"You'd better finish gathering those apples, we have to fill all those crates by the end of the day," he goes on, pointing at the stacks of crates under the tree I've climbed.

In the orchards, the work of gathering is essentially carried out by hand, whereas in other areas of agriculture they employ also machines. Workers are paired off into couples, and assigned a series of trees. One gathers fruit, the other fills the crates. The crates are then sent to a factory, where the fruits will be selected, washed, and then sent by train to the Capitol and the other districts. Only a small amount will remain in District 11. That's really unfair, we grow food, but we cannot enjoy it. These red apples are so inviting… but if someone gets caught stealing or eating the crops, they immediately get whipped, at least twenty lashes. I'm not having this, I remember the signs of the whip on my father's back. All I have to do is working without complaining... for my sake, and for that of my family.

…...

_Present day_

_Maya Seeds (12)- Citizen of District 11_

Suddenly, I wake up. I had a nightmare. Even if I can't remember it, I still feel uneasy. I look around. I share the bedroom with all my siblings, but none of them is here now. For a moment, I believe I'm still dreaming, but then Benjamin peeps out from the kitchen.

"You've woke up, sleepyhead!" he says with a smile.

"Apparently," I reply, yawning and stretching.

"We're already having breakfast. You'd better hurry up, if you want to find something to eat," he continues, giggling.

I snort, and follow him in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Maya. Are you hungry?" my mother greets me.

"Not really," I answer.

Today, there's my first Reaping. I can't help but worry, even if I've got only one slip in the Reaping ball. Benjie himself looks a bit concerned. Of course, my elder sisters Gaia and Jules can relax, since they're no longer eligible.

"Don't worry, kid, everything gonna be okay. This is a great time for us, our little Maya has started a new school, and nothing will ruin our happiness," says my father.

He's always so positive, self-confident, and ready to look at the bright side. I'd like to be like him.

"He's right, Maya. We'll always be with you, whatever happens," adds my mother.

"Helloooo… she's not the only one who needs support… I'm so scared in this moment, like a fluffy puppy on a dark road!" Benjie chimes in, adding goo-goo eyes and a trembling lip to his performance.

He's joking, of course. As usual, he likes playing the victim, but he always overdoes things so much, that we all burst out laughing... as this time.

After having breakfast, we get dressed for the Reaping, and head to the main square together. The streets are filled with people and, although many are chatting animatedly, a general feeling of uneasiness and uncertainty looms over us all. There's only one thing we all know for sure: two kids will be sent to the Capitol, and at least one of them won't come back alive. This time of the year is definitely the worst. Once in the main square, Benjie and I join our sections, which are divided by age- the eighteen-year-olds right in front of the stage, the twelve-years-olds like me at the back of the square. Those who are not eligible attend the ceremony at the sides. For the first time in my life, I don't stand at the sides, but right in the spotlight. I have to admit that it's a whole other story. In the meantime, the Reaping has begun. The mayor makes a speech about how proud our tributes should be of representing District 11 in the Games. I don't think he really believes in what he's saying.

"...our people are used to facing many difficulties to survive, and the Hunger Games are just another challenge to overcome, after all. Go, tributes, and be proud of your roots, because we're not less than the other districts," he says to finish his speech.

"Oh, what a wonderful speech, Mr. Mayor! I sincerely hope everyone has listened carefully!" comments the escort, and then she goes on: "But now it's time to move from words to actions! Ladies first!"

She gets closer to the girls' ball, and pulls out a slip of paper. "Maya Seeds!"

What? No, wait, it can't be! I'm imagining it, she has not chosen the only slip I have! However, a peacekeeper drags me out of my section, and pushes me towards the stage. _I've been reaped for real, then..._

"You don't need to be so rude! Our little tribute is just a bit shy!" complains the escort, but she sounds more amused than annoyed.

It's true. I've been reaped, I'm not imagining it. As I'm mounting the stage, tears start flooding from my eyes. That's so unfair… after what we have all done to make me enrol, all the projects I had for the future…

"Come on, you're on national TV, you cannot cry like a baby!" says the escort.

I don't even look at her, I just keep my gaze down.

"Okay, as you wish. Now, for the boys… Tobias Jackson!"

I don't look up to watch my district partner approach, but, when he eventually walks by me, he puts his hand on my shoulder and whispers: "Courage! We're in this together."

"Ladies and gentlemen, the tributes of District 11, Maya Seeds and Tobias Jackson! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" says the escort, eventually.

We immediately get in the Justice Building, where our families and friends can come to say goodbye before we leave. My vision is blurred by tears, so I don't pay attention to what's happening around me. The only thing I notice is that they leave me alone in a room… it must be the waiting room where I'll receive my visitors. My family comes here, indeed. My mother hugs me tight, and I keep on crying in her arms. She's teary too.

Only when I've calmed down a bit, she breaks the embrace and says: "Remember that we'll always be with you, Maya."

"But you need to be strong. We know you can. You have a whole lifetime to live, you cannot give up now," adds my father with tears in his eyes.

Seeing him cry is a rare event. I think this is the second time in my life I see him cry… the first one was last year, when I told him I had passed the test for the private school. Yeah, it's a rare event, but it's also a bit strange… I mean, seeing a strong man cry… that's why I feel the need to say something, I suppose.

"I'll do my best not to disappoint you," I say.

"You cannot disappoint us, Maya… we're your family, we'll always support you," he replies.

"Thank you."

Then, it's the turn of my siblings.

"That's unfair, Maya, that's f…" says my brother, but I interrupt him: "I know it's unfair, but we cannot do anything about it, I can only try to do my best."

"We'll be rooting for you, sis."

"Thank you."

"If we were still eligible…" says Gaia.

"…we'd have both volunteered for you," Jules finishes her sentence.

Gaia and Jules are twins, and they have the habit of finishing each other's utterances. I usually find it creepy, but not today. Today, it relaxes me, it gives me a sense of normality that I'm going to miss soon.

…...

_Tobias Jackson (13)- District 11 male tribute_

I don't know why I tried to comfort my district partner, I don't even know her… yet… I don't know, I just felt that it was the right thing to do. Maybe I did it out of pity. She reminds me of my little sister Flo… ah, I shouldn't make such comparisons! There's no use in getting attached to a person who's going to die soon.

Luckily, my family comes to visit me, interrupting those useless thoughts. My mother hugs me. She's crying, while I haven't shed a tear yet. What's happening to me? Have I become numb?

"Oh, my son, my son! First your father, and now you!" she moans.

No, I cannot let her panic. I break her embrace, and watch her right in the eye. "Listen to me. You cannot… I repeat, you cannot let yourself down. You've got a daughter to look after. Do anything you can to survive while I'm away. You could find a part-time job for starters…"

"Sometimes, I forget that you're a man now, so young but so mature," she comments with a sad smile.

"Please, mum, promise me that you'll do your best!" I insist.

"It's me who should tell you those things… but, yes, I promise," she replies.

"And I promise you that I'll do anything to come back home alive, so wait for me, please," I add.

"Sure."

Then, I get closer to my little sister Flo, who's standing aside. She's not yet of Reaping age, so she's probably unaware of what's really happening. I hug her.

"When are you going to come back?" she asks me.

"As soon as possible," I answer.

"I'd like to go with you, so that you won't feel lonely."

I smile. "It's not possible, Flo, but thank you. Just… don't forget you have a brother, and don't sleep in my bed."

"But yours is bigger!" she complains.

"When I'll come back, we'll buy a new bed for you, then."

"Okay."

"You can think about me, sometimes… I won't feel lonely, if you do it."

"I'll think about you every day, then."

* * *

**So, another Reaping is done. What do you think of the tributes of District 11? How do you think their relation will be in the Capitol and during the Games?**

**If you're interested in submitting, you can still submit sponsors for this fanfic, and tributes for _Divine Punishment_. PM me or see my profile for info.**

**Thank you a lot for reading and reviewing :)**


	14. D12: the Gambler and the Outsider

**Hi, everyone! I must admit that I'm pretty excited, because the Reaping part of this story is almost completed; that's why I've decided to update first the Reapings of Twelve and Thirteen, and then upload two chapters of ****_Divine Punishment _in a row****. To sum up, my next updates will be:**

\- **D13 Reaping (along with the full list of tributes)**

\- **D3 Reaping (****_Divine Punishment_****)**

\- **D4 Reaping (****_Divine Punishment_****)**

**For the moment, enjoy the Reaping of District 12 :)**

* * *

_2 years ago_

_Jonathan Dice (44)- Citizen of District 12_

Today, my dive bar is more crowded than it usually is. Nothing surprising, given that there's the finale of the Hunger Games on TV- the boy from Nine vs the boy from Eleven. Male challenge. Quite predictable, I would say. The arena of this year- an unhealthy swamp- is not one of the most original Gamemakers have come up with, yet hard for survival. The tributes who weren't killed by other contenders or those horrible, crocodile-like mutts died of diseases. The last two standing were, somehow, able not to get ill, and they're about to face each other at the cornucopia. I have to say that it hasn't been a particularly interesting edition so far, at least not as regard the potential bets on tributes. No great fights, just a series of useless deaths. I hope to make even today. Fabian- my… let's call him socio- is already collecting money.

"How about a bet, Wade?" he asks one of the few who's still at the bar.

The others are all huddled around my old television, waiting for the finale to begin.

"I've got no money left," Wade answers in a tone that makes it clear that he's dead drunk.

"Oh, come on! We all know you love bets!" I chime in from behind the bar.

"You're good at judging tributes. They're all rooting for the Nine male, but I… I don't know… don't you think that Eleven should not be underestimated?" Fabian goes on.

"Ah, rubbish! You don't understand a thing! Nine has killed three tributes with his sickle, and Eleven will join them soon!" I say.

"Not necessarily," rebuts Fabian in an annoyed tone.

He's not really annoyed, of course. This fake argument between us serves only to stir Wade from his alcoholic numbness, and convince him to bet. We know he will, he's a drunkard and an habitual gambler. Nine is taken for favourite, so those who bet on him are at less risk, but this means also that they can win less money. On the contrary, betting on Eleven means being at higher risk, but if you win… where's the profit for me? Well, if you lose, I pocket all the money you bet; if you win, you have to give me a percentage. There's a profit in any case.

Suddenly, a girl approaches the bar. A girl here!? I didn't see her enter. I examine her. Long, curly, red hair, freckled cheeks, blue eyes, incredibly pale… not a typical girl of the Seam, and neither of District 12, that's for sure. She must be one of those foreigners sent there with the Repopulation Project. Now, they're exaggerating. The birth rate has risen, so what's the point of going on with this project? District 12 has become a patchwork of people!

The girl addresses Wade. "Are you going to stay in this rat hole all day?"

"Be a little more careful with words, Yolanda," Fabian chimes in.

He knows her, then, but, despite his words, he doesn't sound offended, he sounds rather amused.

"I'm not talking to you," she rebuts.

"You're touchy today, hmm?"

She decides to ignore him. "Come home, father," she tells Wade.

She's Wade's daughter, then… his foster daughter, evidently. I'm pretty sure his wife was sterile.

Wade groans. "No, you go home… and play with dolls. I've got important things to do here."

"What exactly? Getting drunk? Letting these crooks steal all your money?" she replies, defiant.

"Hey!" Fabian complains.

"I will win the bet, this time," he affirms.

"But you haven't bet yet," I point out.

"Oh, yes, you're right… I'll put my money on the Nine boy."

"No, you won't!" says Yolanda.

"Yes, I will, instead!" retorts Wade, and then gives Fabian two or three coins.

He takes note on his notebook.

"Careful choice. If you win, your bet will be doubled," comments Fabian.

At this stage, the anthem of Panem echoes through the place. Instinctively, we all turn to the television. The broadcast has finally started. After the seal of the Capitol fades away, the commentators- a man and a woman dressed up in colourful clothes… actually, I assume the man is a man for real, even if his general appearance is a bit ambiguous- start talking about how excited they are about the finale.

_"It has been quite a painful edition, but we've managed to get to our final two tributes, eventually," _says the woman.

_"Certainly, it has lacked the enthusiasm of previous Games, but our viewers has stayed tuned, and we'll provide them with a spectacle deserving of their loyalty, won't we?" _adds the man… he has a deep, male voice, so he's a man for real, I suppose.

_"It won't disappoint them, that's for sure. Every citizen of Panem is now glued to their screen… this competition is a real element of unity."_

_"I totally agree with you, Mircalla." _

Then, they frame the arena. The golden cornucopia stands out in a field of brownish grass- probably the only part of the arena free of mud and stagnant water. All supplies have been removed. Gamemakers want a naked-and-raw fight, evidently… here they are! The two boys are approaching the cornucopia from opposite directions. If I didn't know it is happening for real, I would think of a frame. Everything seems so staged! The cameras do some close-ups to their faces, stopping on Nine's sickle, which is blood-stained. The last tribute who died was killed by him, after all.

_"What a duel-like scene!" _says one of the commentators.

_"The Nine boy looks particularly threatening with that bloodied sickle in hand. I wouldn't want to be in the place of his opponent," _replies the other, flaunting a wide, white smile.

_"He's the audience's favourite, but I wouldn't give up on Eleven… not yet, at least."_

Yeah, if Eleven won, it would be better for me, since everyone has bet on Nine.

Suddenly, a gasping sound distracts me from the screen. I turn around, and see that the girl is breathing badly. She has one hand pushed against her chest, while she's rummaging in her pockets with the other. Wade and Fabian have approached her, worried. They're both speaking loudly, but the roaring voices of the other customers overpower theirs. No one but us has noticed that she's not well.

"Yolanda! What's up?" says Fabian in a desperate tone.

_Oh, man, you don't need to be so melodramatic! _

"That's an asthma attack!" explains Wade.

He doesn't look drunk any longer.

"Asthma!? I didn't know she… what should we do?"

Eventually, Yolanda pulls out a white thing from her pocket, and starts breathing in it. Soon afterwards, she calms down. Wade sighs in relief.

"You scared me to death, Yolanda," says Fabian with a relieved smile.

A chorus of disappointed NOs fills then the place.

_"The finale is over, ladies and gentlemen! Panem has finally a new victor: Rod Mooncrate ***** from District 11, who, against all odds, won the 97th annual Hunger Games! Amazing!" _

Ah, I missed the finale! Eleven has won, at least. Since the broadcast is over, many customers start leaving. I nod at Fabian to make him approach.

"Careful to them, someone could try to steal our money, because they lost their bets," I whisper to him.

"What!? Yolanda has just recovered, and you think about money!?" he retorts under his breath.

"She's fine now, so what's the problem?"

…...

_4 years ago_

_Yolanda Underwood (11)- Citizen of District 12_

I sneak off to my parents' room as silent as a cat. I don't enter, though, my parents are in, and I just want to eavesdrop their conversation. I know I'm not supposed to listen to it, but I've got the feeling that it's about me. It won't be pleasant, though, since my mother is on her deathbed.

"Wade…" says my mother under her breath.

"I'm still here," replies my father in a gentle tone.

"Promise me that you'll look after our daughter," she goes on.

"Of course, I promise."

"I'm serious, Wade. I know you have money problems, even if you tried to hide this from me…"

"T-that's not the moment… you don't need to worry…" he stammers.

"Listen to me. After my death, they'll give you some money as a compensation. Use it to solve your problems, but then… then, you'll have to find a stable job. Yolanda will need all your help to get through this difficult moment, and not only because she's sick. Can you understand me?"

"Yes," he answers with a sigh.

"What's up, Wade? Is there anything else I need to know?" she enquires.

"Nothing. I'll do my best to take care of… yeah, of our daughter."

"It's not her fault, Wade."

"I know it."

"They were unfair not to tell us about her asthma, but we love her anyway, okay?" she insists.

"I just wish I had known it, before adopting her."

_What? I… I've been adopted… it can't be true! They would have told me before, wouldn't they? They should… _

But, deeper down, I know that they're not lying. I've always felt different from the others, out of place like an outsider. For a while now, I've started suspecting that I might come from another district like many others in Twelve, and my suspicion is now confirmed. In any case, my world falls apart before my eyes. I feel betrayed. They should have told me the truth! I'd like to break into the room, and cry like a madwoman, but this would only make my mother's predicament worse. She has been recommended to avoid any strong emotion. Therefore, I limit myself to run away. I get out of the house while tears start blurring my vision. I feel a mixture of rage and sadness rise up to my chest. At some point, I trip- don't know on what- and fall. Someone helps me to get up. It's my father… or, rather, the man I thought was my father.

"Yolanda!" he says.

"You should have told me!" I shout.

"Please, come back home, we'll discuss it later... the streets are not the best place…"

I look around. There aren't many people on the streets now, but someone has turned to look at us. Dirty washing should be laundered at home, I suppose.

"Okay," I say, wiping away my tears.

I go back home with him. We stay in the kitchen, so that my mother cannot hear us from upstairs.

"You should have told me. I had to eavesdrop… to eavesdrop!... to find it out!" I insist.

"We didn't… we didn't know how… how to tell you," he stammers, without looking at me.

Looks like our roles switched… I'm the parent, and he is the child who I must scold. "You could have found the way… everything would have been better than…" I start saying, but I cannot finish my utterance, since I burst into tears.

My father hugs me. "Hey… this is not the end of the world… you're still our daughter, okay? No matter the blood tie…"

"But you don't love me, because I'm sick, and you didn't want a sick daughter."

He sighs. "We do love you, Yolanda. Just… if they had told us…"

"… you wouldn't have adopted me, then," I conclude.

"Not necessarily, dearie. It was just a bad surprise, that's all. But it's not your fault, and we know it," he replies, stroking my hair.

"Where do I come from?" I ask him.

"District 4," he answers.

District 4? The fishing district? It's a paradox. I've always been told that sea air is good for asthma. Why did they send me away, then? Why did they send me to this dusty district?

"What about my family of origin?"

"Well, they didn't tell us much…"

"But what do you know?"

He sighs again. "Your parents in Four are dead, that's what they told us… but I don't know who they were, not even their names."

I don't feel sad. Actually, I feel nothing. Why do I feel nothing? They were my real parents, after all! But I don't know them, not even their names.

"She said you have money problems," I go on, changing the subject.

"You don't need to worry about that," he replies.

"Really?"

"There will be some changes in our lives, but we'll face them together. Your mother… well, you're old enough to understand what's happening… so, please don't tell her about this, we don't want her last days to be unhappy, do we?"

…...

_Present day_

_Fabian Swift (15)- Citizen of District 12_

Everything's ready for the Reaping. I got dressed, and had a quick breakfast- just a piece of bread, because I usually eat more at lunch… on Reaping days, at least. It's the only day of the year in which Jonathan is willing to spend money to spoil ourselves a bit. In fact, we go to the restaurant for lunch. Townies shoot us such dirty looks on these occasions, but we don't care. Even if many people from different districts moved to Twelve, the rigid distinction between the town and the Seam is still evident.

I leave my apartment. Actually, Jonathan and I live right above our dive bar. No one should work today, but we will, nonetheless. After all, peacekeepers leave us in peace, since their chief receives a bribe out of the bets, so why not take advantage of it? Immediately after lunch, I'm going to watch all the Reapings on TV. Jonathan will want my opinion on the tributes of this year, so that we can launch the bets tonight. He says I have good eyes for this.

While heading to the main square, I meet Yolanda.

"How are you, redhead?" I greet her with a smirk.

"Don't call me like that!" she rebuts, annoyed.

"Touchy girl," I comment, amused.

"How can you be so merry today?"

"Just look at the bright side."

"There's no bright side. Two kids will be sent to the Capitol for their insane Games, and it could be me, because I've signed up for tesserae many times since my moving."

Yolanda used to live in town, but she was forced to move to the Seam- where rents are lower- due to her father's debts. They had also to sell the house they owned in town. Since she's fifteen like me, we're in the same class at school. That's where I met her for the first time. Since then, our relation has always been of the love-hate kind. I like teasing her (also because she gets angry quite easily), but, deeper down, I consider her a good friend.

She's right. I had to sign up for tesserae myself, because the dive bar doesn't assure a great income all in all, except for the Games season. There are also many costs to consider. Actually, I usually go to the Justice Building once a month, but this year I haven't so far. So, let's do some math…

15 years old= 4 entries

4+12 (=months in a year)x 3 (=the years I've taken out tesserae)= 40

40 slips with my name in the Reaping ball. I'm a gambler, I know when I'm seriously risking. Luckily, I had to take out tesserae only for myself, and not for Jonathan. He always says that if I want to live with him, I have to make sacrifices, as he did when he decided to take care of the little orphan he found on the streets years ago. I'm grateful to him, he saved my life, but sometimes I wonder if he's just using me.

"We'll see what happens," I say with a smile.

We get to the main square together. We present ourselves to the peacekeepers, and then join the other fifteen-year-olds. Boys are girls are separated, even if they're of the same age. Boys on the right, girls on the left. We all look like toy soldiers, standing rigidly, waiting for our fates to be decided. The mayor mounts the stage for his habitual intro speech. He's a Capitolite, even if he doesn't look as such.

"Welcome, District 12, welcome to the Reaping of the 99th Hunger Games! Now, let's read our sacred Treaty of Treason. I hope it will be an instructive reading for all of you," he says, cheerfully.

_Oh, man! Twelve is not a Career district, no one believes in what you're saying!_

When he's done, the escort draws our attention by poking the mic. She's a rather flamboyant woman, dressed in a short, bell-shaped, green dress with orange and yellow dots. She has also long, fake eyelashes, and her bronze hair are short and styled like the crest of a rooster. She wears a pair of spiky, black earrings.

"Hello, everyone! My name is Alice Coeurdepique, and I'll be your escort for this year. I don't need to add anything to what your excellent mayor said, so why don't we move to the actual reaping of tributes?"

She doesn't wait for an answer, though, she immediately starts rummaging in the girls' ball. Eventually, she picks up a slip of paper. "Yolanda Underwood!"

What? Yolanda? No, it can't be… it shouldn't be! I watch her, as she's mounting the stage. She's red with anger, which she's hardly able to repress. Her fists are clenched, indeed. If she could, she would get the escort off the stage with one single punch… and I would approve.

"Any volunteers?" asks the escort, but no one answers.

_Cowards! If I was a girl, I would!_

"Let's move to the boys, then… Fabian Swift!"

What? Me? Are you serious? The heavens have decided to make fun of me, apparently. I mount the stage, trying to appear as serene as possible. I look at Yolanda again, but she avoids my gaze. The escort asks for volunteers, but the crowd remains silent. Typical!

"So, the tributes of District 12 are Yolanda Underwood and Fabian Swift! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

We're immediately let inside the Justice Building. The place is obviously familiar to me, but I've never been in a waiting room before. Not that there's something special to see, it's just a room like many others. Time passes, but I receive no visits. Jonathan has better things to do, I assume… like thinking of possible bets… bets that might be on me, on my life. For the first time since I've met him, I truly realize what I am to him: just a resource to be exploited. But now that I might lose my life, I've become useless out of a sudden, right?

…...

_Yolanda Underwood (15)- District 12 female tribute_

I've been reaped for the Hunger Games! I've been reaped for the Hunger Games! I've been reaped for the Hunger Games! What could be worse? Well, Fabian is my district partner, I can't imagine anything worse! I want to see if he still thinks of looking at the bright side! Idiot!

My father's arrival interrupts my hectic thoughts.

"Yolanda!" he says in a desperate tone.

He would like to hug me, but I oppose. "Sorry, I'm too angry for that!" I apologize, while walking back and forth in a really agitated state of mind.

"Please, Yolanda, I don't want our last moments together to be like that," he begs me.

I stop to watch him right in the eye. "You're already giving up on me, aren't you?"

"No, I would never. Just listen to me, Yolanda. I'm your father… yeah, definitely not the father you deserve… but I love you, I will be rooting for you," he replies in a voice both firm and moved.

"Also betting on me?" I ask, defiant.

Despite himself, he slightly smiles. "No. I promise you that I won't waste money on bets and alcohol… any longer," he rebuts, self-confident.

"It's a difficult promise to keep," I comment, surprised by his confidence.

"But I'll keep it and you, on the other hand, you'll promise me that you'll do your best to come back, okay?"

"I promise."

"Yolanda, District 12 is your home, the place you belong to. If you don't want to win for me, then do it for yourself. Give yourself this opportunity. When you'll come back, you'll do what you want with your life, you can even decide not to see me again, it doesn't matter, but fight, Yolanda, fight for your life!"

He hands me my inhaler. "You may need it."

Suddenly, a peacekeeper enters the room. "Time's up!" he thunders.

"No! Wait!" I cry.

My father is already heading to the exit, when I reach him, and hug him tight. "Thank you… dad."

He's about to say something, but the peacekeeper yanks us apart, and slams the door. I'm alone, now. In a burst of anger and despair, I kick one of the couches of the waiting room. Then, when I've finally calmed down a bit, when I eventually feel the burden of my fate on my shoulders… then, I break down.

* * *

**Ok, quite predictably (I know), Yolanda was reaped along with her twin brother in Four (see chapter 6). How do you think she will react, when she'll find out all the truth about her past? Oliver will certainly try to interact with his sister. We'll see how their relationship will be like, but you can make some predictions, if you want.**

**Thank you for reading :) **

* * *

*** In this chapter, I introduced three supporting characters: the announcer for the Games (Mircalla, the woman), the Master of Ceremonies (the man), and a victor form District 11. They will be all further developed later on. As for the two commentators, I won't use Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith, just because, in my AU, President Smith has decided to renew everything, therefore there won't be any canon character in my stories, but I could make some references to them **


	15. D13: the Memory and the Protester

_The day before the Reaping_

_Owen Coin (18)- Citizen of District 13_

I'm coming back home from school. The sky is as grey as ash, and it seems almost to merge with the surrounding landscape. A grey picture painted by a miserable artist. In the distance, I can see the dark silhouette of Panem's largest nuclear plant, which is called Alpha Plant… a bit far from the town, but not far enough if an accident happens. Nevertheless, many people still prefer living above ground; the underground tunnels are like a ghost town now, buried in the depths of the earth along with the past they represent. My family was in a sense forced to move above ground, where we can be seen, where the Capitol can see us. It was an act of surrender, in my opinion… not that they were given a choice. I stop to look up at the sky. Those dark clouds aren't well-promising, it may rain by nightfall. I wrap myself tight in the grey jacket of my school uniform, and head home quickly.

"How was school?" asks my mother, as soon as I cross the threshold.

"The same as every day… all that stuff about nuclear power," I answer, evasive.

"It's your last school year, Owen. Then, you'll need to work… a job in a nuclear plant wouldn't be that bad, don't you think?" she points out.

"That's not what I want."

She sighs. "Your father works at Alpha Plant, he could put in a good word for you. Besides, salaries are adequate… adequate enough to let me stay home to bring up our son."

"Believe me, I'm grateful for that, but…"

"You can't always have what you want; sometimes, you have to be content with what you can get," she says, interrupting me.

"You're right, ma', just… sometimes, I'd like to be a different person," I reply, turning my back on her.

"You mean having a different name, maybe," she corrects me.

I turn around. "Ma'…"

"You don't need to say anything. Owen, will you ever be able to let go of the past?"

"I don't think so," I answer under my breath.

"But you have to do it, sooner or later. You weren't even born, when it happened," she rebuts, caressing my cheek.

"But it's part of my story… of _our _story!"

"Alma Coin- your grandmother- led District 13 on the verge of disaster. She didn't do good to our family. Ask your father… she was an absent mother to him, that's why he begged me to stay home to look after you, he didn't want that to happen also to you, Owen," she explains.

"She was a great woman, she had to make sacrifices to become the leader her district wanted her to be!" I rebut, rushing towards my room.

"Owen! What are you doing?"

"You know what I always do before every Reaping!" I reply.

"Owen! Listen to me, it's useless, you…"

But I can't hear the end of her utterance, since I've already slammed the door. It's not her fault, if she cannot understand me; she's not a Coin, after all, her blood doesn't boil when the memory of President Coin is insulted.

I switch on the small TV I've got in my room. There's a footage I always watch the day before every Reaping: my grandmother's execution *****. It's the only footage I've got of her… the only image I've got of her, since there's no picture at home. It reminds me that, even if the Hunger Games involve also District 13 now, someone tried at least to rebel against this barbaric practice… my grandmother in the first place. I watch her, as she's getting ready for her execution, displayed before the entire nation as a hunting trophy. I think I look something like her, with my ashy, blonde hair, light grey eyes, and thin features. I'm really proud of it. Sometimes, I wonder if this resemblance means that I'm born to be a rebel like her.

The echo of a thunder in the distance distracts me from my thoughts. The perfect day before a Reaping. That thunder is the herald of a great storm, and I can only hope it won't be a bearer of bad news for me.

…..

_The day before the Reaping_

_Carol Lumine (14)- Citizen of District 13_

I hear a thunder in the distance. It's going to rain soon, I can already smell that dampness in the air that usually precedes rainfalls. I like it when it rains, especially that drizzle that gives your skin such a pleasant sense of freshness. However, rain is no good today, rain could spoil our plans. Christie convinced me to skip school this morning (and I still feel guilty), but she promised me that she will make graffiti- which I really like- to be forgiven by me. I just wish she will able to do it before it starts raining.

"Are you not afraid of peacekeepers?" I ask her, while we're looking for the best place for graffiti.

"Nah, there aren't many around, not with this weather," she answers, shrugging.

"You're always so brave, just… if you grew your hair, you'd look nicer, don't you think?"

She snorts. "I've told you thousands of times… no, because it gets into my eyes while I'm working!"

"You could comb it in a ponytail. It's really a pity… this wonderful, raven hair…" I remark, caressing her hair.

"Your blonde is a better colour… blonde hair and blue eyes, the perfect combination," she retorts.

"Nah, too classic!" I say, giggling.

"But it attracts boys," she replies. Her tone has suddenly become icy.

"I'm not interested in boys, and you know it. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," she answers.

"Christie… I know you too well…"

"What about the boy of yesterday? You were talking cheerfully during the break!"

"You are jealous, aren't you?" I reply with a smile.

"No, I'm not jealous!"

"Yes, you are… your cheeks has turned red, they look like tomatoes!" I tease her, pinching her cheeks.

"Stop it!" she complains.

I put my hands on her shoulders. "Seriously, Christie, the only person I'm interested in is you ," I say, but, since she avoids my gaze, I gently lift her chin up, so that I can see her eyes. "Okay?"

"Okay."

I kiss her. Every fibre of my being is suddenly warmed up by our contact. After what seems like an eternity, she steps back, breaking the spell.

"Ahem… your kisses are always amazing, Carol, but work before pleasure, I have graffiti to make! Don't distract me!" she says in a tone from which I immediately understand that she's not serious.

"As you wish," I tell her in response.

"I found the best place," she goes on, resuming her walk.

I follow her, smiling.

I stop, when I realize she's heading to the Justice Building.

"You want to make graffiti in the main square!?" I say, bewildered.

"That's the best place to convey my message," she explains, keeping on walking.

I catch up with her. "Which message?" I ask her, curious.

"Well, tomorrow is Reaping day, right?"

"Right," I reply, a bit worried about what will follow this statement.

"The entire district will be there, and also the Capitol will see."

"Christie, that's dangerous… whatever you intend to do, you'd better forget it."

"I cannot, Carol. No one should forget. That's how they control us, they use our fear against us!" she rebuts in an angry voice.

"You're right, but…"

"No buts, Carol! Someone has to show them that we're not a flock of scared lambs!"

I sigh. "What are you going to paint?"

"I was thinking of a hopeless tribute, represented as a puppet on the strings of a flamboyant Capitolite… the more grotesque, the better… and maybe there could be also an inscription like _that's how they see us_," she answers, enthusiastic.

"You will be punished for that… the entire district, if you don't get caught!"

"I won't get caught, my work will be discovered only at the last moment."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I found out that the Reaping of this year coincides with the 60th birthday of Mayor Blight ******, and that, for the occasion, he had a small mural- he loves art, apparently- painted on the façade of the Justice Building, in a corner because there's not much space left with all those windows. Anyway, it is meant to represent harmony between the Capitol and District 13, but it needs retouching, in my opinion," she explains.

"You will never been able to even touch it!" I point out, shaking my head.

"That's why I need your help," she replies, smirking.

"That smirk is not well-promising," I comment.

"The mural is hidden behind a curtain. I just want you to keep watch while I'm working, okay?"

"That's insane!"

"Don't worry, Carol. I've already seen it: there's a Capitolite who puts his hand on the shoulder of a nuclear-plant worker… I just need to retouch this image, and turn it into my vision."

"The bare idea scares me, Christie!"

"I'd do anything to defy the Capitol, which makes our lives so miserable. But I need your support, honey, only together we can win," she says in a begging tone.

Oh, jeez! I cannot say no, when she speaks to me like that!

I sigh. "Okay, just promise me you'll do your best. This work has to impress everyone, is that understood?"

"That's my Carol!"

…...

_Present day_

_Owen Coin (18)- Citizen of District 13_

When I wake up, I realize that I went to bed wearing my school uniform. My stomach is growling with hunger, since I skipped supper yesterday. Actually, I spent the whole evening watching the TV; as a consequence, a headache is to be added to my hunger. Great. I get up and change my clothes for the Reaping. I choose a simple, light grey sweater, sneakers, and a pair of blue jeans. I comb my hair. Even if I find the Reaping an outrageous masquerade, I don't want to look sloppy. I stop a minute to look at my reflection in the small mirror hanging above my bedside table. I cannot help but think about how much I resemble my grandmother. I cannot help but think that if the Capitol hadn't won the war, things would have been different. I sigh. Just another Reaping, and then everything will be over.

I join my parents- who are having breakfast in silence- in the kitchen. They don't say a word to me, and neither do I to them. If they expect me to apologize for what happened yesterday, they will be disappointed. I'm not going to choke on my words, because that's what I sincerely think. The present is the product of the past, and we cannot reject the latter. I wolf down my cup of milk and cornflakes, then I leave without waiting for my parents.

As I get out of the house, the chilly air makes me shiver. Maybe I should have worn something warmer, but I'm not going to go back home, I'll head straight to the main square. The part of District 13 that is located above ground has been put up ex novo in a grid pattern, in the heart of which the Justice Building arises- a stately building, whose massive shape is let's say lightened by the presence of several windows.

Once I've reached my destination, I join the other eighteen-year-olds in the front section. Our victors have all taken their seats onstage. In 23 years, District 13 had five victors, and they could have been even more, but the Capitol doesn't want too many victors from its former rival district, of course. Nevertheless, our militaristic upbringing pays off. The schedule system doesn't exist any longer, but we're used to hardship and discipline, and, as a matter of fact, the tributes of Thirteen usually prove to be excellent survivors. In the meantime, the mayor has mounted the stage along with the escort from the Capitol.

"Welcome to the 99th annual Hunger Games, District 13! This year, the Reaping will be a little bit longer than usual, since there's an important anniversary to celebrate: your mayor's 60th birthday. I heard that something special has been prepared for the occasion. It that right, Mr. Blight?" says the escort.

"Very true, my dear. For the occasion, a mural has been painted," replies the mayor, pointing at a red curtain behind him that hides the lower-right corner of the Justice Building's façade. "A mural that conveys a message of peace and mutual help between the Capitol and District 13," he adds.

"Let's show it, then! I'm thrilled to bits!"

In one smooth movement, Mayor Blight pulls the curtain, which falls to the ground, thus revealing the mural beneath. At first, dead silence falls over the whole square. As soon as they see the mural, the cheerful smiles of the mayor and of the escort evaporate like dew under the scorching sun, and are quickly replaced by astonished countenances. The mural does not correspond with the mayor's description! You can see a flamboyant Capitolite- who looks like the caricature of the mayor himself- and a citizen of Thirteen, who's portrayed like a puppet with an absent smile. The Capitolite is the puppeteer, who pulls the strings of his puppet. The icing on the cake? A provocative sentence below the two: THAT'S HOW THEY SEE US. The whole square… or, rather, the whole Panem can see it. Slowly, the silent square becomes an inferno of deafening, roaring voices in protest. Many people are now moving towards the stage, while others stay in place, risking to be swept away by the crazy swarm of protesters. Looks like the rebellious nature of this district has finally re-emerged. My heart is beating faster with pride, and a satisfied smile forms on my lips. I'd like to know who retouched the mural.

"Calm down, you all!" cries the mayor from the stage.

Eventually, peacekeepers intervene with weapons in hand to quiet down the crowd. By dint of menaces and beating, calm returns. No shots, but several wounded. The mural is covered again.

"Shame! A really bad conduct in front of the entire nation! But I assure you that whoever is responsible for this will be quickly found and punished!" comments the mayor, red with rage. "And now the Reaping! We'll see how many of you will still want to protest after that!" he goes on, beside himself.

The escort- clearly frightened- picks up a name from the boys' ball as fast as she can. "O-Owen Coin!"

What? Me? It can't be true, it must be a nightmare! Two peacekeepers drag me out of my section with their cold, gloved hands. I feel like my entire body was made of ice. I mount the stage in an almost mechanical way.

"Hurry up! We haven't got all day!" says the mayor.

I look at him. There's contempt in his gaze, but also a hint of satisfaction. Yeah, he must be happy that a Coin is getting into the Hunger Games. The escort is now ready to read the name of the female tribute. She doesn't even ask for volunteers. "Carol Lumine!"

"I volunteer!" shouts a firm voice.

A girl emerges from the fourteen-year-old section. She's wearing casual clothes like me. Her dark hair are short-cut, and this fact brings out the round shape of her rosy face. But her most noteworthy feature are definitely her piercing, dark brown eyes, the mirror of an untamed soul.

"My name's Christine Harsh!" she says in a self-confident tone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the tributes of District 13: Owen Coin and Christine Harsh! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" says the escort, still a bit uncomfortable.

We're quickly let inside the Justice Building, and assigned a separate waiting room for visitors. My parents visit me.

"Oh, Owen!" cries my mother, as soon as she enters the room. She's weeping, I've never seen her weep.

She hugs me. The warmth of her body stirs me from the cold, robot-like numbness I felt after being reaped. I listen to my parents' recommendations, but say few in response. What can I tell them, after all? I cannot tell them that this is a final farewell, that I'm not going to come back because I'm a Coin and, therefore, they cannot let me survive. That's an unspoken truth, and we all know it. I can only promise them that they won't kill me easily, that I'm not going to go down without a fight. Better than nothing, right?

When they eventually leave, the emotions of this day return to my mind all at once- the rage of the crowd, the sense of pride I felt, the shock of being reaped, the awareness of my imminent death. I don't know how to cope with these contrasting feelings. It's almost suffocating. My head starts spinning. I sit down on one of the couches, waiting for the moment in which I'll leave District 13 forever, and silently hoping it will never arrive.

…...

_Christine "Christie" Harsh (14)- District 13 female tribute_

My mural had its desired effect. The crowd protested… yeah, it was silenced, but it protested. That's the most important thing! My joy could be complete, if it wasn't for the Reaping's outcome. A storm cloud that overshadowed everything… but the alternative would have been worse: Carol, _my _Carol in the Games! I couldn't let it happen!

My parents visit me first. They look more furious than sad, especially my mother.

"How could you be so reckless? Volunteering for that girl, without thinking about the consequences!" she yells.

"I love her, but I know it's something you cannot understand, no point arguing," I reply.

My parents cannot understand my choice. They're in favour of the so-called "traditional family", they cannot conceive a different model, they cannot conceive a different kind of love. Actually, if I had enough money of my own, I would have gone live with Carol years ago.

"What's done is done, but you have no idea of what kind of trouble you got in , Christie!" adds my father.

"Only Carol can call me Christie!" I shout.

He slaps me. "Keep your voice down, we're still your parents, whether you like it or not! What we say is for your own sake!"

I massage my cheek. "My sake!? You don't know me! You've never wanted, because I'm not the daughter you wished me to be!"

My father is about to slap me again, but my mother stops him. "What your father wanted to say is that we love you, Christine, and that now we're scared to death, because you will end up in the arena," she says, lowering the tone of her voice.

"I'll find some allies to survive. I'll win for Carol, and for my district," I affirm.

"Choose all the allies you want, but not that Coin, he's already doomed," she points out.

"Such a name is a synonym for rebellion… by the way, what do you think of what happened with the mural, Christine?"

That's a dangerous question. I know there must be some hidden camera in this room, so I cannot tell them that the mural is my doing as I wish I could. That would spoil all my chances of winning; my parents would be punished in my stead, and so would Carol. Anyway, I can tell by the tone of my father that both my parents suspect me.

"Someone wanted to provoke the Capitol, that's all I can say."

When they finally leave me alone, Carol enters the room, her eyes reddened by tears. She's so pale that I fear she could faint. I immediately hug her.

"I'm sorry, Carol, the last thing I want is making you suffer," I tell her.

I'm about to cry as well, I can feel it, but I must try to stay strong for her.

"You shouldn't have volunteered, Christie! I don't want to lose you!"

"And you won't, indeed. I'll win the Games, you'll be proud of me."

She breaks our embrace to watch me right in the eye. "I'm already proud of you. You're so brave… yeah, maybe a little reckless, but always brave," she replies with a sad smile.

I know she's referring to the mural, but she's clever enough to understand that she cannot say it aloud. At this stage, she takes off her red foulard, and gives it to me. "As a lucky charm," she says.

"Umm… in the ancient times, knights used to receive such presents from the ladies for which they fought… I'll be your knight then, my lady," I reply, ceremoniously kissing her hand.

She giggles in response. "You'd better fight hard, my lord."

"I will, that's for sure."

* * *

**Last but not least, the tributes of District 13: Christine Harsh and Owen Coin. They have both a rebellious nature, and I think they could be good allies to each other. What do you think of this possibility?**

**Next chapter, you'll find the full list of tributes. Now that the Reapings are finally over, we can move to the Capitol, but I will first update _Divine Punishment _before going on with this story. **

**Thank you for reading :)**

* * *

***As for the execution scene, see _Divine Punishment _chapter 1**

****Desmond Blight, the mayor of District 13, was introduced in _Divine Punishment _chapter 4 (D13 Reaping) **


	16. List of Tributes

**HG edition: 99****th**

**Main theme: love**

* * *

D1- Luxury

Excelsa Serafin (18), the Ambitious

Kyle Whiteswan (17), the Empathetic

D2- Masonry

Scarlett Pearce (18), the Bloodthirsty

Victor Blade (18), the Envious

D3- Technology

Ambra Clares (16), the Tactician

Henry Almonds (14), the Chemist

D4- Fishing

Vivian "Vivi" Tide (18), the Mermaid

Oliver "Ollie" Litore (15), the Distant Brother

D5- Power

Rhonda Hope (12), the Orphan

Cliff Wells (14), the Dam Worker

D6- Transportation

Alexa Steel (17), the Peacekeeper

Christopher "Chris" Terranova (12), the Explorer

D7- Lumber

Bella Page (16), the Storyteller

Cedric Page (12), the Little Hero

D8- Textiles

Autumn Peachskin (18), the Actress

Tartan Dye (13), the Painter

D9- Grain

Rebecca Field (16), the Rebel

Adam Thorn (18), the Fiancé

D10- Livestock

Estrella Sol (17), the Rejected

Timothy "Tim" Cunningham (18), the Rancher

D11- Agriculture

Maya Seeds (12), the Blossom

Tobias Jackson (13), the Breadwinner

D12- Mining

Yolanda Underwood (15), the Outsider

Fabian Swift (15), the Gambler

D13- Nuclear Weapons

Christine "Christie" Harsh (14), the Protester

Owen Coin (18), the Memory

* * *

**Who are your favourite tributes? Who do you like? Who do you dislike? Please, make a list in your reviews, or send it via PM. If you want, you can divide your list like that:**

\- **Rooting for (plus 10 points)**

\- **Simply like (plus 5 points)**

\- **Neutral**

\- **Dislike (minus 5 points)**

\- **Want them dead (minus 10 points)**

**Note that this could be the only occasion in which you can subtract points, which will determine tributes' survival in the arena. You can find the list with their current points on my profile. I tell you straight away that points cannot be below zero, even if a tribute is disliked by many. I will take into account your preferences, nonetheless. **

**Thank you a lot for your contribution :) **


	17. Train Rides: Revelations

**Hi, everyone! Now that the Reapings are all done, we can move to the second part of this story, which is about the preparation for the Games. From now on, SUBMITTERS will be able to assign MAX 20 POINTS to tributes per chapter. Here, some basic rules:**

\- **only submitters can assign these extra points (normally to the tributes who have a POV in that chapter)**

\- **these points can be assigned to either one tribute or be divided (just follow the 5 time table)**

\- **to assign these points, you just need to send a review or PM me**

\- **these points are cumulative, which means that, if you don't assign your 20 points in a chapter, they will be added to those you already have (the list of submitters with their current points is on my profile)**

**I still accept submissions for SPONSORS, but, if you're not interested, you can read and review.**

**As for POVs, I will follow the scheme below:**

\- **train rides: 5 POVs**

\- **chariot parade: 6 POVs**

\- **training days: 5 POVs per day**

**In this way, every tribute will have at least one POV before the Games.**

**Sorry for this long introduction, but I deemed it right to make everything clear. In any case, you can PM me for any doubts. **

**And now, enjoy your reading :)**

* * *

_On the way to Capitol City_

_Oliver "Ollie" Litore (15)- District 4 male tribute_

_The Distant Brother_

As soon as we get on the train, the escort shows us what he calls a "little welcome buffet"- a round table full of any possible kind of finger food, mainly in the shape of fishes, shells, starfishes… of something sea-related, basically. How ridiculous! I don't even get close to the table, I'm not hungry at all. On the contrary, I would like to puke in disgust. This train is a sort of fancy, high-speed paradise, but it looks more like a cage to me.

Vivian eats something, instead. "You know, I had only a fish for breakfast," she says.

After that, Thalas shows us our private rooms and the dining car, where we will have our meals together before arriving at destination. A coast-to-coast journey separates District 4 from the Capitol, so we won't get there before tomorrow.

"We'd better watch the other Reapings, and start thinking about alliances," he suggests, at some point.

On the train, there's a compartment with a huge TV screen and some comfortable, velvet couches. We go there to watch the Reapings, not that I'm particularly interested in seeing the other tributes.

District 1. The girl volunteered and the boy was reaped, but… he rejected the volunteer!

"Oh, the boy is really handsome!" comments Vivian with a wide smile.

What's the point of being handsome? If he has to die, he will die in any case!

"Kyle Whiteswan… he's the son of two victors, no doubt… definitely a good ally," Thalas points out, while taking notes on a pocketbook.

District 2. Two volunteers… predictable.

District 3. Nothing special.

We skip Four.

Districts 5, 6 and 7. Hopeless tributes.

District 8. The girl is a volunteer and she's also another victor's child, but the boy is too young to be considered a threat.

District 9. Both tributes look strong enough.

District 10. The boy volunteered for his little brother. I can't help but sympathize with him.

District 11. Basically two bloodbaths.

District 12. My muscles stiffen, when the turn of my sister's district comes.

_Please, not her…_

_"Yolanda Underwood!"_

No, it can't be… it can't… I stare at the screen, unbelieving. My sister mounts the stage. She's clearly angry. No one volunteers for her… oh, come on! Someone has to volunteer! But nothing of the sort happens. I turn to Thalas. He's watching me with widened eyes, holding his breath. Suddenly, I feel like I was suffocating. I leap up like a spring, and storm out of the compartment.

"Ollie!" cries Thalas.

I enter a room at random, and flop down on the bed, burying my head in the pillow. I start weeping nervously. I hear the sliding doors open.

"Go away, Thalas!" I shout, without lifting my head.

I don't need to turn, after all, I know it's Thalas. No one else would come to see me now. No one else would understand.

"Ollie…" he says.

"Go away!" I repeat.

But he doesn't listen to me. He sits on the bed.

"Now, we know that your sister is a tribute. The best thing you can do for her is joining the Careers," he says, with a sigh.

I turn to him. "Never!" I shout.

"But you'd protect her in this way, preventing them from killing her," he goes on.

"I will ally only with my sister, that's the best way to protect her!"

"But you won't know where the Careers will be. Besides, Yolanda might ignore that she has a brother, she could distrust you."

"I'll tell her the truth! I'll tell it in front of the entire nation!"

"She may not believe you. In any case, allying with the Careers is your best bet," he insists.

"You say so because you were a Career, you _wanted _to be in the Games!" I retort.

"That's true, I was in the Games willingly. But this means also that I know how things work better than you, Oliver. Please, trust me, I'm not only your friend now, I'm also your mentor."

"Do what you want, Thalas, just remember that I'm going to do anything I can to make my sister win!"

"You know that you're asking me to give up on your life, don't you?" he says, losing his cool for a moment.

"That's precisely what I want, Thalas."

…...

_Scarlett Pearce (18)- District 2 female tribute_

_The Bloodthirsty_

Victor and I are asked to watch the Reapings, even though I don't think one can identify possible threats starting from there. However, it was our mentor- Hippolyta Arrowhead- who warmly recommended to take a look at them, and our mentor is a legend. She won the 87th Hunger Games, and, even though District 2 had other victors after her, she hasn't renounced mentoring. The finale of her Games was particularly thrilling. The arena- a tropical island with a volcano (what a cliché!)- was half-flooded with lava, and the two remaining tributes besides her had joined forces to kill her, but she managed to get rid of both of them. I profoundly admire Hippolyta, and I'm really proud of being mentored by her. If she says that we should watch the Reapings, it must be worth it.

To be sincere, I'm more interested in knowing who my district partner really is, rather than seeing the other tributes on TV. As he's watching the Reapings, I intently look at him until he turns his dark brown eyes to me.

"What do you want?" he asks, annoyed.

"I was just wondering what happened to poor Roger…" I answer.

"No idea."

"Oh, really?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"What have you done to him?" I enquire.

"What do you mean?" he replies with another question.

"Now that we're alone, you can confess. Roger has been taken to the hospital, and I know it's your fault. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to judge you… on the contrary, if you really did something to take his place… well, I shall admire your courage," I say, smirking.

No, I don't really think what I just told him. I've been working hard to be here like Roger has, so I cannot stand impostors like Victor. But, if he ends up trusting me, getting rid of him will be easier… and more rewarding too.

"I deserve to be here more than Roger," he replies, looking away from me.

I can consider it an admission of guilt, I suppose.

"Not according to our trainers," I retort.

He glares at me, but I'm not afraid of him, I'm as firm as a rock.

"I could care less about them! I'm a tribute now, I'll win the Games, and there's nothing they can do!" he blurts out. That said, he gets closer. "You'd better not teasing me, otherwise you'll regret it," he adds in a menacing tone.

"Is that a threat?"

"Of course," he says, articulating every syllable.

I smirk. "I have to admit that Roger doesn't seem to possess this fire of yours, that's precisely what District 2 needs."

"I'm serious, Scarlett!"

"Me too."

"I don't know what you have in mind; in any case, I don't care. I'll ally with you until the Career pack will split, then… then, fate shall decide," he says, eventually. He seems rather nervous.

"I'm not asking for more. May the odds be ever in our favour."

…...

_Fabian Swift (15)- District 12 male tribute_

_The Gambler_

Since I'm a tribute now, and there's nothing I can do to change this fact, I should accept it, I suppose. But this doesn't mean that I cannot enjoy my time on this train. Apparently, Yolanda and I have a bedroom on our own with a private bathroom, and… oh, a real shower! I take off my Reaping outfit, and try it. There are many different buttons to regulate the water temperature (for the first time in my life, I can bathe with warm water… how pleasant!), and to decide the type of shampoo or shower gel to use… but I'm so excited that I start pushing buttons at random, just to see what happens. I get out of the shower smelling like a garden in bloom. I dry my hair, and then get dressed for supper, even though I wouldn't mind going around wearing this bathrobe, which is so comfortable. Anyway, I choose a silky shirt, black trousers, and loafers from my closet. I could get used to all this luxury.

For a moment, I gaze at my reflection in the mirror. I no longer look like a boy from the Seam, except for my physical aspect- olive skin, grey eyes, dark hair. I've managed to scrape all the coal dust from my body. I've never worked in a mine, and yet… the coal dust is in the air, and covers everything in Twelve. I wonder what Jonathan would think of me in this moment. Would he still see me as a resident of the Seam? Well, he hates Capitolites, he hates townies, he hates anyone who comes from another district… I don't think my physical aspect would be sufficient to spare myself his hatred, not that I care about what he thinks… no longer, at least.

In my room, there's a TV screen, so I can get an idea of my fellow tributes- or, rather, of my opponents- before meeting them. I don't watch the Reapings, though, I don't think one can get that much from them. I'm more interested in possible bets. I cannot bet, of course, but I'm curious to know how Capitolites judge us. Not surprisingly, they expect Careers to excel, but their odds seem to be higher than I imagined. Higher odds mean that their victory is not necessarily taken for granted. Maybe it's because they haven't won for seven years. Yeah, it must be that. But I'm not going to underestimate them, that's for sure, it would be stupid. I carefully examine the list of tributes on TV. Three names immediately catch my eye: Kyle Whiteswan, the boy from District 1; Autumn Peachskin, the girl from District 8; and Owen Coin, the boy from District 13. Their surnames are familiar. The first two are victors' children, or relatives, no doubt… people to whom I should look over my shoulder. As for the other boy… well, the name Coin is pretty self-explanatory. The remaining names ring no bells. I focus on the ages, then. Of course, many are older than me, but ten tributes are actually younger. The situation is not that desperate, after all. I must think about possible alliances. Apart from Yolanda, who should I ally with? Umm… maybe I should decide during training, when I'll see their performances. The more elements of judgement the better, right?

…...

_Rebecca Field (16)- District 9 female tribute_

_The Rebel_

I keep wandering back and forth the train, unable to sleep. All I can see from the windows is that night has fallen. Normally, I would be happy, I prefer night over day, but not now. I feel suffocated, I need some open space… some fresh air, at least… but I was told that the windows must not be opened, when the train is moving. I reach the bar car to pour some water. Its freshness should soothe me a bit in theory, but it doesn't really work in this case. I'm sweating and breathing hard.

"You okay?" asks a voice behind my back.

I turn around. "Adam… you're here. Cannot sleep as well?"

"You don't look well," he remarks in a worried tone.

"Just a bit of claustrophobia," I explain.

"What can I do to help you?"

"Nothing really, it will pass soon."

He gets closer. I feel more embarrassed than ever. We haven't talked about what happened at the Reaping yet, and I don't know how to introduce the topic.

"You know that you can count on my help, don't you?" he says, giving me the input I needed.

"That's why you volunteered?"

"I couldn't let you go alone," he answers, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"That's insane, and you know it, right?"

"Risking my life for you? Maybe."

"I'm serious, Adam! Why did you volunteer?" I insist, watching him right in the eye.

"I love you, Rebecca. When you were reaped, I… I don't know… I felt it was the right thing to do. You should be relieved, if not happy. At least, you know that you can trust your district partner as an ally," he explains.

"I see. You take our alliance for granted," I point out.

"You not? We were about to get married, Rebecca!"

I laugh despite myself. "You call that a marriage!? You gave me no choice but accept your proposal!"

"Would our union be that bad for you, then?" he says, unbelieving.

Then, his dark green eyes dart from my face to my left hand. He takes it. "Where's the ring I gave you?" he asks in a rather inquisitive tone.

"Do you think I'm an opportunist?" I reply, holding his gaze.

"Not a bit."

"Pamela will give it back to your parents, since our engagement is broken," I explain, freeing my hand.

"But it was a present for you!" he rebuts, shaking his head in disappointment.

"It was more than a present, Adam, it was a promise for life… but now this promise cannot be kept, and you know why."

"I though you would have kept my ring as a sort of district token, at least to remind you that you can trust me."

"No, it would only have reminded me that you're willing to sacrifice your life for me, but I don't want anyone to die for me, Adam! Is that understood?" I retort, raising my voice.

"There can be only _one_ victor, so only _one_ of us can survive. Believe me, I'll do anything I can to make sure it's you," he says, putting his hands on my shoulders.

"Anything may happen in the arena, you cannot make predictions!"

"Please, calm down, Rebecca! I'm just saying what I'm going to do; you'd better start thinking of your strategy as well," he suggests.

"So wasting your life is a strategy for you."

"Do you know what my parents told me after the Reaping? They said that, if I win, they'll make sure I'll settle down properly- properly according to their standards, of course, my opinion is not important. In this way, I won't make any other "rush decision". But do you know what I think? I think that I'd rather die for a person I really care about, than live the rest of my life in a cage and with a person I don't love."

"Who knows? You could fall in love with this person," I offer.

"I don't think so, not if my parents choose her in my place."

"You did the same with me, when you asked for my hand."

I know it's a cruel thing to tell a person who will probably die to save your life, but it must be said. That's how I feel, that's how things are.

"You may not love me, Rebecca-I mean, not in the way a wife is supposed to love her husband- but I'm sure you don't hate me," he says.

"I don't hate you, indeed, but I've never thought of marrying you; I didn't see you as a possible husband before your proposal, and even more so now," I reply.

"The Games ruined everything, I know," he says in a sad tone.

"You destroyed all your hopes yourself, when you volunteered."

He doesn't say anything in response. He's about to leave the bar car with his tail between his legs, but I feel too guilty to let him go. I've been too harsh.

"Adam, wait!" I say.

He turns around. "Yes?"

I sigh. "Just because one of us will die, it doesn't mean that we cannot be allies."

A slight smile forms on his lips. "I think so as well."

…...

_Autumn Peachskin (18)- District 8 female tribute_

_The Actress_

I have to admit that I spent a good night despite everything. My bed was quite comfortable. I get out of my room ready for breakfast. I sincerely hope to meet Gemini Webb, and speak to him about strategy before arriving at the Capitol. As a mentor, he's supposed to give advice to his tributes, but he hasn't even dignified Tartan and me with a look since we have left District 8. I find him in the bar car, while he's doing lovey-dovey along with Miranda Cleo. Not a great sight, to be sincere. And the worst part of all is that, even though they have seen me enter, they haven't stopped yet.

I clear my throat. "Ahem… can I speak to you in private, Gemini?"

He snorts. "You can say whatever you want even in front of Miranda," he says in what sounds like an exasperated voice.

_Hey, I'm just asking you to do your job!_

"I'd rather not," I insist.

Gemini snorts again. "Please, Miranda, wait for me in the dining car. We'll have breakfast together, okay?"

She doesn't say a word in response. She limits herself to leave the car, without looking at me. Anyway, I can tell by the way she walks that she's rather annoyed.

_Don't worry, your charming prince will come back to you soon!_

I get closer to the bar counter, and sit on a high, cherry-red chair. "Do you really love her?" I ask Gemini.

"What?" he says with a puzzled expression on his face. Clearly, my question was unexpected.

"I was just wondering if you love Miranda," I go on, shrugging.

"No, this can't be what you came for!"

"No, indeed. But we could have a little conversation in the meantime."

"What's your game?"

"No game. I just want to know my mentor," I reply with a slight smile.

"Well, if you expect to find a friend in me, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed; I'm not less despicable than my Capitolite girlfriend," he states, while pouring some blue liquor in a long, slim glass.

I'm taken aback by his statement, and the puzzled expression on my face must have betrayed my feelings, since Gemini goes on speaking with a satisfied smirk on his lips: "Oh, dear, it was not the answer you expected, was it?"

I'm suddenly aware of a role reversal. Gemini is leading the game now; he's the villain, and he's keeping the hero in check. To be sincere, I didn't realize my mentor was like that before. Yeah, during his Games he double-crossed his allies, but who could image that he was that despicable? This revelation has shocked me. Now, I don't know how to behave, and this is not something that happens very often. What should I do?

"So, you don't love her for real," I say, eventually.

He bursts out laughing in response. "Oh, dear, you're really naïve! Of course not! We both know that this is just a temporary affair; mixed marriages are not allowed, after all. But we can be talked about, in the meantime. Miranda has become more popular as an escort, so, when we'll spilt up, she'll certainly be assigned to a better district. I truly hope Eight will have another attractive escort to console my poor, broken heart, when Miranda will leave me," he replies, uttering the last words in a fake desperate tone.

At this stage, I decide to change the subject, and move straight to what I came for: strategy. "Okay, your private life is not my business. I'd rather talk about the Hunger Games," I say.

"There are few things you need to do, in this regard: look pleasant and self-confident in front of the cameras, stay alive... and I'll see what I can do with sponsors. I heard that you're an actress, so it shouldn't be hard for you," he replies.

"What about Tartan?" I enquire.

"He's a bloodbath like his brother, don't ally with him," he dismisses the subject with such a coolness that my blood turns cold in my veins.

"But you're his mentor! You cannot give up on him now!" I retort, beside myself.

"What I have to do as a mentor is choosing the best tribute to focus on. You're the daughter of a victor, Autumn, and you volunteered for your sister… Capitolites love this kind of stuff! You've already built your character- drawing a parallel with theatre should make it easier to understand for you, I suppose. On the other hand, we have Tartan, a hopeless child. Who do you think the audience will root for? For Tartan? Or for _you_?" he explains, while pacing around, always keeping his piercing, green eyes on me.

"I don't care about what you think! I'll ally with Tartan!"

He smirks and shrugs. "Do as you please, I'll be focusing on you, in any case."

* * *

**So, these are the train rides with the first POVs after the Reapings. I hope nicknames help you to remember the tributes' backgrounds, because that's precisely their main purpose. **

**SUBMITTERS can assign points to: Scarlett (D2F), Oliver (D4M), Autumn (D8F), Rebecca (D9F), Fabian (D12M) **

**(For everyone) Below, I'll provide you with a question for each tribute. Of course, you're not obliged to answer them all, but, if you do, I'll be glad to know your opinion. Every review is worth 5 points for the tributes you name. **

**Scarlett: what do you think of her strategy with Victor?**

**Oliver: how do you think he should approach his twin sister?**

**Autumn: do you agree with her decision to ally with her district partner?**

**Rebecca: should she really ally with Adam?**

**Fabian: what do you think of his attitude?**

**I'm pretty busy at the moment, since I've got many exams is January, so I'll probably update less frequently. I'm really sorry, I'll try not to disappear, but I can make no promises. Bear with me.**

**Thank you a lot for reading! Have a nice week and a happy holiday :)**


	18. Chariot Parade: Early Alliances

**Hi, everyone! I'm finally back also with this story. Here, you'll find 6 POVs with the first interactions among tributes from different districts. In the following chapter, I will finally introduce sponsors, and you can still submit them, by the way.**

**Enjoy your reading :)**

* * *

_First day in the Capitol_

_Cedric Page (12)- District 7 male tribute_

_The Little Hero_

As soon as we set foot in the immense train station of the Capitol, two white limousines pick up me and Bella to take us to the Remake Center, where we will be prepared for the opening of the Hunger Games. I don't want to be separated from my sister again, but I have no choice.

"Don't worry, you'll see her this evening," says the escort, who's in the limousine with me.

I nod.

"Oh, cheer up, kid! You're finally in the Capitol, you should be excited! I know it's always hard when siblings get reaped, but you should really try to enjoy this moment," he adds, gesturing in an overacted manner.

He seems a crazy clown, and this is a bit creepy, since I'm a bit afraid of clowns… but this is something I'm definitely not going to admit.

I cannot see too much of the city, since the windows are tinted. I hope Bella is fine. I'm looking forward to seeing her. I know I should be stronger, but, when she's with me, I feel more confident. She's always by my side when I need help, especially with my nightmares, and sometimes… sometimes, I think that I don't do enough to reciprocate. Maybe she's too kind to me… I mean, I'm not her real brother, I'm a kind of intruder, and yet she has never been jealous of our parents. The Games could be an opportunity to reciprocate her. If Bella dies, I will never be able to forgive myself.

Once in the Remake Center, I'm left in the hands of my prep team- a group composed of hairdressers and aestheticians- who will make me "decent"- yeah, they used this term- for my stylist. Luckily, they said there isn't too much work to do on me, only one of them doesn't seem to like my hair: "Yes, on the whole, it seems that you know what civilization means, but this hair… it's too ruffled, you should really start to use balm!"

I'd like to say that I haven't got the faintest idea of what "balm" is, but it would be pointless, so I keep quiet. Eventually, when they finish, they leave me alone and completely naked, insisting on the fact that my stylist has to see my body. It's so embarrassing! At some point, the door opens, and my stylist enters... but walking backwards!

"Why do you walk like that?" I spontaneously ask.

"I thought you would feel ashamed of being naked in front of a stranger, especially of a woman. Please, wear your robe, so that we can talk in a civil way," she gently replies.

I wear my robe, and she turns around. My stylist is a very young woman with long, straight, brown hair with emerald green extensions. Her features are delicate and thin, especially her face; maybe a little bit too thin compared to the considerable amount of her hair, but her figure is on the whole harmonious. She's wearing a sea green shirt with see-through fabric that hangs from its long sleeves, and that has a pattern that reminds me of the wings of a butterfly. With her shirt, she has matched tight, green leggings and a pair of simple, white slippers. But what really impresses me are her eyes, green and glowing like those of a cat. I cannot help but think that she's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen.

She introduces herself, putting out her hand with tapering fingers. "Nice to meet you, Cedric, I'm Emeralda Baynes *****," she says with a kind smile.

I shyly shake hands with her. "Are your eyes natural? If so, you must be the daughter of a cat!"

She chuckles in response. "The daughter of a cat?"

"Yeah, and of a fairy," I add.

"Well, you've got a vivid imagination, Cedric," she comments, amused.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, on the contrary, it is a good thing. If you sound spontaneous as you do, winning the crowd will be easier. You know, it's not just your appearance that matters, but also your behaviour. Here in the Capitol we pay attention to every detail," she explains.

"So, you're here also to teach me how to behave."

"Well, I can advise you. But the most important thing is that I want you to feel at ease… I mean, as far as possible. If you'd like to say something, or if there's something you don't like, please let me know. You'll always have a friend in me."

"You're very kind."

In response, she takes my hand, and I blush. "I'm an only child, Cedric, I don't know what having a sibling means, but I can imagine how you feel now… I mean, being forced into the Games with your own sister... it must be awful. That's something they should really forbid. Anyway, I'll do my best to make your sojourn in the Capitol as pleasant as possible," she says with a sad smile.

She sounds sincere. Evidently, not all the Capitolites are insensitive like our escort.

I'd like to cry, but I manage to hold back my tears. No use crying now. Besides, I don't want to look weak. A knight should always look strong, otherwise his enemies would overpower him… and there is certainly someone who can overpower me among my fellow tributes, but I don't want them to underestimate me. Just because I'm one of the youngest, it doesn't mean that I cannot be dangerous, right?

"But now let's leave sadness aside! We have some work to do! The chariot parade is a very important moment, because sponsors will see you for the first time. A good impression is everything tonight! As for the costume, there's not much to say about the tendency of District 7: just tree-like costumes! Absolutely unimaginative, don't you think? No, we'll do something different this year! Yeah, Seven has two siblings, but you have to compete with Careers, and there are also two victors' children. Therefore, if we want to leave a mark, we have to show them something special," says Emeralda at some point, pacing back and forth.

"I don't know. Seven means lumber, so trees and leaves. Fall leaves are wonderful," I offer.

She stops, watching me right in the eye. "Could be an idea. And what if the leaves changed?"

I look at her, puzzled.

She smiles. "Fall is just one of the four seasons."

When the costume is finally finished, I can see what she means by that: Bella and I are both wearing a knee-long robe completely covered by fake leaves, which can change their colour according to the season- green, yellow, orange, red, and brown. This process is gradual and uniform- from top to bottom, and then from bottom to top. In addition, we're both wearing a wreath round our heads, and sandals on our feet. On the whole, we look like woodland spirits.

…...

_Excelsa Serafin (18)- District 1 female tribute_

_The Ambitious_

I take a lift along with Kyle. We have to descend to the ground floor, where we'll find our chariot. The parade is basically a symbolic trip to the City Circle, it represents our entry into the Capitol as tributes. For me? Just a waste of time. You don't need to look nice in the arena. Anyway, Kyle and I are descending silently, our bodies perfectly upright and stiff as if we were peacekeepers… well, except for the way we're dressed. Our skin has been completely covered by gold powder, including our face. Our hair has been styled by using a glittering gel to shape it in what should look like sunbeams. To complete our look, we're wearing a sort of tight, golden armor, which is light and permits a certain freedom of movement, though.

At some point, I look at Kyle. I cannot help but notice how much the gold powder brings out his wonderful, violet eyes.

"Hey, if you keep staring at me like that, you'll make me blush," he says with a kind smile.

I immediately look away, embarrassed. "I… I was just thinking that our stylists did a great job," I lie.

"Maybe you don't see why they should display us as hunting trophies."

"It makes no sense. In the end, the most important thing is the arena, _there_ we will really have to prove ourselves."

He sighs in response.

In the meantime, we have arrived on the ground floor. It is a broad open space, where the thirteen chariots have already been linen up. Ours is to the front, right behind the huge door that, once opened, will give us to the crowd. There is movement here, with people hurrying up to finish the decorations of the chariots. Avoxes, I suppose. The tributes from Two approach Kyle and me, followed immediately by the girl from Four. Our allies… it is customary that Careers meet before the parade to confirm the alliance.

"Hi, guys!" says the girl from Four, winking at Kyle, who ignores her, though.

"Your district partner is not with you?" I ask her, annoyed by her amused attitude. She doesn't seem to take it seriously.

She shrugs. "Thalas wants us to work as a team, so he will join us sooner or later. I don't really agree with this strategy; for me, Oliver is too young and untrained to be a Career. But we could accept him nonetheless, and, when he will become useless, get rid of him."

"Fine with me," replies the girl from Two- Scarlett, if I don't mistake- with a smirk. There's something chilling in her smirk, I'd better be wary of her.

When our allies are gone, my stylist- Edgar Drak- comes over to urge us to mount the chariot, because the parade is about to begin.

"As you know, you're the first. I want you to shine tonight!" he says.

"We won't go unnoticed with all this golden powder and glitter," comments Kyle, with a slight smile.

He seems a bit uneasy. Well, I can understand him. I'm not used to great crowds neither, and especially not to moving around in such garments. I cannot see myself now, but, judging from the way Kyle looks, I can say that we're more similar to gold statues than to human beings.

"Actually, I thought your style was a bit darker," I say, addressing Edgar.

Maybe this will release the tension. With his white hair dyed red at the edges, white eyes, eye patch, studded, black clothes, and silver gun booties, my stylist appears like a weird combination of gothic and pirate-like style.

"I would normally agree with you, dear. But you're District 1, you have to be radiant! The crowd out there will see you as little suns ready to rise!" he rebuts.

I don't like parading, but I have to admit that the sun imagery has a certain power. After all, if I want to stand out, I need to start somewhere. I could compare my journey in the Games to a solar cycle… a solar cycle without setting, of course.

…...

_Rhonda Hope (12)- District 5 female tribute_

_The Orphan_

Cliff and I are wearing the same costume: a sky blue leotard that covers our body from the shoulders to the feet, and with white bolts designed all over it. Bolts mean electricity, what District 5 produces. At least, our costume makes sense. There are cases in which I cannot really understand the work of Capitolite stylists… like last year… Amanda's costume looked like a tangle of wires. Ours may be not one of the most impressing costumes, but I can see something worse around me, like that of District 12, dressed as dusty miners as usual. Besides, I like my costume, it makes me feel a little better. I couldn't sleep last night, so Amanda kept company with me in order to soothe me. A part of myself still believes that all of this is just a terrible nightmare, and that I will eventually wake up, safe in District 5.

As soon as I see Amanda, I hug her. I haven't seen her the whole day.

"Oh, dearie, still a bit sad?" she asks me.

"I want to go home," I whisper.

She breaks the embrace, and ducks to watch me right in the eye. "Me too, Rhonda, but we both know it's not possible, right? You have to stay strong. The parade is the easiest part, you just need to smile. Please, do it for me. And don't cry, I don't want to see any tears. What would Capitolites think, if they saw you like that?"

I nod. That's precisely what I told her before the Reaping, when she informed me that she had adopted me. Now, it seems like it's been ages, and yet it happened only yesterday. At some point, Amanda takes my pearl bracelet out of her pocket, and gives it to me.

"My stylist told me that I couldn't wear it," I say.

"He'll never know," she replies with a wink. "It's your district token, Rhonda, you have the right to wear it. Now, mount the chariot. The parade will be over before you even realize it, believe me," she adds, smiling.

I mount the chariot along with Cliff, who has the same resigned expression he had at the Reaping. I haven't spoken to him yet, not even on the train. Actually, expect for the Remake Center, I've spent all my time with Amanda. This could be a good moment to have a conversation.

"Ready for the parade?" I ask him.

He watches me. Clearly, he didn't expect me to speak. "Whether I'm ready or not, I'm obliged to parade, so let's say that I'm ready," he points out with a bitter smile on his lips.

"Amanda told me that we just need to smile. The crowd seems to be interested only in how we look, and not in what we feel."

"Yeah, Amanda tells you many things…"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, please, you may be only twelve, but I don't think you're that naïve. You play the victim, but you know that having one of our mentors as a friend will advantage you in the arena. But don't worry, I won't bear a grudge for that, I'm used to injustices," he replies, looking away from me.

Our conversation is suddenly interrupted by a buzzer that signals the beginning of the parade. The huge door to the front opens, accompanied by the roaring of the crowd out there, which can be heard even from where we stand. As our chariot starts moving along, my heart is beating faster and faster. I look at Cliff with the corner of my eye: his body is stiff, his face a mix of fear and unease. I try to take his hand to buck him up, but he rejects my help. Maybe he's right about me being advantaged, but it's not my fault if I knew Amanda before the Games. Besides, once in the arena, she will be able to help me only from afar, which might not be enough for me to survive. And then there's also Leroy… I mean, we have two mentors, he won't be left to himself, will he? He cannot expect Amanda to ignore me just because he thinks that our friendship advantages me, right?

_Okay, having to do with Cliff gonna be difficult… _

…...

_Maya Seeds (12)- District 11 female tribute_

_The Blossom_

The emotions that I'm feeling at the moment are almost impossible to describe, but I can try. I've never felt so thrilled before, not even when I passed the test to get into the private school. I'm also a bit afraid of the crowd, since I'm not used to seeing so many people around me… well, I cannot really see people now, what I see is more like a colourful patchwork which is roaring like a beast, and I feel so little and insignificant before it.

At some point, Tobias puts his hand on my shoulder. I look at him.

"Why don't we show them something?" he offers, getting closer to me so that I can hear him.

"What?" I ask him, curious.

"Let's play with food!"

"What?" I repeat, puzzled.

"My stylist told me that people like having a souvenir- she explained to me that souvenirs are objects that remind you of something you did or of a place you saw- of the parade. Our costumes look like food, we could throw some pieces to them."

He's right about our costumes. I'm dressed like a bunch of black grapes, which are made of spheres that cover my body from my shoulders to my knees, and I've got a black leotard underneath. I'm wearing also a wreath of grape leaves. On the other hand, Tobias is wearing a cap that looks like a plate with a pyramid of fake apples glued on it. His body is wrapped in a sort of yellow towel with other apples that hang from it. I don't think our stylists will be happy, if we destroy their works, but Tobias has already started to throw apples to the crowd on his side. At some point, he offers one to me, and I pretend to bite it. It's funny, after all, so I decide to imitate him, and I start to pick the "grapes" to throw them away. The crowd seems to be enjoying it, by the way: someone is laughing noisily, others are jumping to try to catch the pieces we're throwing to them. Eventually, when there's nothing left to throw, Tobias puts his arm around my shoulder, and I do it as well. This wins the crowd. Cheers arise like a powerful wave from the spectators.

"They liked it," says Tobias with a wide smile.

"Apparently yes," I reply, panting. I'm so thrilled that I'm out of breath.

"We're a great team, Maya, don't you think?" he goes on.

"Sure… but I don't think our stylists will agree on what we did with our costumes. We're in real trouble," I point out, but I'm more amused than worried.

"It doesn't matter as long as it helps our team, because we're a team, aren't we?"

…...

_Alexa Steel (17)- District 6 female tribute_

_The Peacekeeper_

The horses- ours are grey- that are drawing our chariot- which is decorated to look like an old locomotive- are so well trained that no one needs to drive the chariot. I must admit that I'm impressed. The Capitol has not disappointed my expectations so far. Yeah, the Remake Center was a torture, but it was worth it. They even complimented me, because I didn't wail. Well, I'm used to worse things. If my prep team got the same peacekeeper training I get, they wouldn't wail due to a stupid scrub neither. Craig Donovan is a good man in the end, but the discipline he imposes is stern. This will advantage me in the arena, though; I know how to fight, I know how to survive even in harsh conditions… and I'm very likely to find myself in such conditions there. In any case, all I have to do tonight is making a good impression, the rest will follow.

Eventually, we reach the City Circle- the main square of the Capitol. There, all the chariots will spread out in a semicircle. From the balcony of his mansion, President Smith will welcome us… like I care. I'm more interested in my fellow tributes. I start examining them, while the last chariots are joining us in the square. Twenty-five of them will have to die in order for me to win- a sacrifice that is worth making… when I'll win, I'll have a better life, out of the filthy slums of District 6 forever. The bare though makes me smile. Anyway, the Careers are certainly the most dangerous among my fellow tributes, I'd better stay as far away as possible from them… but this doesn't mean that I have to keep a low profile; actually, if I want to get sponsors, I must show them that I'm not as hopeless as they may think. It's a calculated risk, in the end. As for the other tributes, they don't seem to pose a particular threat at the moment, but it's also true that I cannot except to judge them right when they're all dressed up for the parade. We have three days of training, I've got plenty of time to understand who they are, and find possible allies. To be sincere, I don't think I'm made for teamwork, but you never know, an ally might be useful in this case. I'm definitely not going to ally with my district partner, since he's too weak, but maybe I can find a proper ally… the boys from Nine and Ten look strong enough, maybe… _ah, we'll see during training!_

At some point, something catches my eye: the couple from District 11. Their costumes are completely torn to pieces… is that what their stylists wanted or…? Well, from the amused smiles on their faces, I can tell that they destroyed their costumes on their own initiative. Where do they think they are? This is not a game! Well, it is called "Hunger Games", but it's not a game, that's for sure! I wonder what they think to get from this act. They're just ridiculous, not that they will stand a real chance once in the arena, so who cares?

When all the chariots are finally in position, President Smith makes his appearance, accompanied by the cheers of the crowd. From the screens scattered across the square, I can see that he doesn't look like the other flamboyant Capitolites I've met so far. He has short, grizzled hair and sideburns, deep, blue eyes, and has neither beard nor moustache. He's wearing a simple, black man's suit.

"Welcome, everyone, welcome to the 99th annual Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favour! Yes, the odds are important, but we're here also to acknowledge the courage of our tributes, who will certainly make their families proud…"

_Tsk, count on it! My family will certainly be proud of me, when they'll see me kill one of your brave tributes! How could they not?_

"… we are proud of them, after all. They're representing their districts in the Games, and we truly hope that the arena will give Panem a worthy victor, the one who deserves the most to be rewarded…"

_What does he mean by "worthy"?_

"… so, happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

The crowd erupts into cheers, and President Smith goes back into his mansion. But his words have been stuck in my head, and they won't disappear as he just did. He spoke of a "worthy victor"… don't know why, but the adjective "worthy" disturbs me. What does it mean in concrete terms? Strong? Loyal? Career? It is true that there weren't any Career victors in recent years, but this doesn't mean that one of them should win this year just because of that. It would be unfair. No, it won't happen, it _cannot _happen… but what do I have to do to be a "worthy victor"? To be sincere, I had never considered the Games as an opportunity before the Reaping; I used to think that becoming a peacekeeper would be enough to have a better life, but I see it otherwise now. Whatever President Smith thinks, I'm going to win the 99th Hunger Games.

…...

_Christine "Christie" Harsh (14)- District 13 female tribute_

_The Protester_

When the parade is over, we're led to the Training Center, where we're staying for five days. It was rebuilt after the rebellion, so that they could add a floor to house the tributes of District 13.

"Oh, you'll love your apartment! You should know that every floor of the new center is designed to reflect the district's main industry- in your case, nuclear power- like your costumes!" chirps the escort, as we're taking the lift to the last floor.

"Costumes" is a big word to describe what Owen and I are wearing: a sort of wrap made of glowing, green slime. It represents nuclear waste. Some slime was smeared also on our hair, but the worst part of all is that our naked bodies are partially visible under the slime. In addition, the "costume" is itchy. I had to stiffen all my muscles in order to counter the impulse of scratching during the whole parade. I can imagine how ridiculous I looked; I can only hope that Carol didn't find me ugly. I'm looking forward to having a shower! I want to scratch all this shit off my skin!

When the doors of the lift open again, the first impression on the apartment is not that good. Uh, its colours are definitely too bright! It's like being inside a Rubik cube, except for the fact that the only colours here are black and orange. The apartment is completely- and by "completely" I mean floor, ceiling, and walls- covered by polished, square tiles with the symbol of radioactivity on each- black on orange, and vice versa. Definitely of bad taste.

The escort crosses the hall, telling us where to find our rooms, but neither me nor Owen follow her. We're still on the threshold, looking around.

"Well, whoever designed this place has never been to Thirteen. I mean… have you ever seen such bright colours before?" comments Owen, at some point.

"No," I admit.

District 13 is essentially a grey place.

"The only touch of colour was that wonderful mural on the Justice Building," he goes on.

"Thank you," I immediately reply. But then I realize that no one should know that it was my doing, so I bite my lip.

Too late. Owen is already watching me with great interest. "It was you?" he asks me, in awe.

That's so embarrassing! I mean… Owen Coin is interested in my work, the same Owen Coin who's the grandson of Alma Coin! He's a sort of legend in District 13. Those who still hate the Capitol, and would like to rebel again see him as a possible leader, the heir of President Coin… well, they _saw _him as such; he's a tribute now, and the Capitol won't let him win the Hunger Games, not with such a family name. This realization is accompanied by a deep sense of injustice. He's innocent! He wasn't even born when the rebellion took place! But the Capitol doesn't care, right? Well, we are _all _innocent under closer inspection… except for the Careers; since they have been training all their lives to kill people in the arena, they cannot be seen as innocent.

"Christine?"

I look up.

"It was really you?" he insists.

"It's not important," I say.

"It _is _important, instead. If it was you, I must compliment you on your courage. Our district seemed reborn thanks to that mural."

I stare at him. He's not afraid of speaking his mind, even if it's against the Capitol. Well, I wouldn't neither, if I knew that I would die for sure. But I still have a possibility. I must win for Carol. I cannot compromise myself, yet I feel guilty. Owen is exposing himself, after all. What should I do?

"We shouldn't think of that mural now, we should think of a strategy for the Games," I say, trying to dismiss the subject.

Oh, how much I hate myself at the moment!

"If that's what you want to speak of…"

That said, he sighs, and goes sit on a coach. He looks so disappointed, that I cannot handle it anymore. "Okay, okay, it was me. I just wanted to show them that their pretence that everything is alright doesn't fool anyone," I say, joining him on the couch.

He smiles, in response. "Courage… that's something our district seems to have forgotten. But not you, Christine, you have a rebellious spirit, and I like it. Indeed, this suggests me an idea," he says, tapping his hand on my back.

"What idea?" I ask him, curious.

"We could form an alliance- me, you, and someone else," he offers.

"Who would ally with us?"

"We'll find someone. Actually, I watched the Reapings on the train, and I think that we could ask the girl from Nine, Rebecca Field."

"Why her?"

"Her family name was well known among rebels," he explains.

"So, you'd like to form a sort of rebel alliance, wouldn't you?"

"Why not?" he replies with a shrug.

"And what about the boy from Nine?"

"We could ask him too."

* * *

**So, tributes have arrived in the Capitol, and paraded before its citizens. What is/are your favourite chariot outfit(s)? I will assign 10 points to every district you will name (10 points per tribute).**

**Submitters can assign points to: Excelsa (D1F), Rhonda (D5F), Alexa (D6F), Cedric (D7M), Maya (D11F), Christine (D13F)**

**As in the previous chapter, there are some questions related to the POVs in this chapter that you're free to answer: **

**Excelsa: do you think that her ambition to stand out will help her in the Games?**

**Rhonda: will she be more advantaged than Cliff in the arena?**

**Alexa: do you agree on her strategy?**

**Cedric: what do you think of his attitude?**

**Maya: should she really ally with Tobias?**

**Christine: what do you think of the rebel alliance?**

**Thank you a lot for reading :)**

* * *

***Emeralda is the daughter of Oberon Baynes, a Gamemaker. See _Divine Punishment _chapter 3 (Nepotism)**


	19. Sponsors: Experts and Newbies

**Hi, everyone! In this chapter, I will finally introduce sponsors, who are the great novelty of this story (in the sense that you usually submit tributes and not sponsors). This chapter is, however, meant as a simple introduction to set the scene, and I'd like to know your opinion about it. I won't present all the sponsors you submitted here (actually, I'll present only one just to give you an idea of how things work), but I'll do it later on. If you want to submit other sponsors or change the preferences of those you submitted, feel free to do it, you just need to PM me.**

**Enjoy your reading :) **

* * *

_Second day in the Capitol_

_Selena Wellington (23)- Mentor of District 10_

I feel a twinge in my stomach. I'm getting ready to meet sponsors, but a part of me refuses to dress up. Today, tributes are beginning with training, but mentors have definitely a worse job to do: they have to ingratiate sponsors, they have to convince sponsors to support their protégés… in other words, mentors are just a bunch of toadies, and I hate it! But I have no choice. The only satisfaction in all this is seeing silly Capitolites throw their silly money away.

I snort, and choose my outfit from my closet: a short, tight, black dress, with which I match a pair of silver court shoes with high heels. The dress I chose is really sexy: it is short to bring out my long legs, sleeveless, and its top part- corresponding to the upper chest- is made of a mesh like that of fishnet tights. As for my curly, blonde hair, I'll wear it down.

I cross the dining room, where Timothy and Estrella are having breakfast. They're both staring at me, gaping.

"No need to gawp," I tell them, annoyed.

"We're just… well, we're not used to seeing you… yeah, I mean… you don't usually dress like that," he stammers.

"What I wear is not your business! You have to focus only on training, and, mind you, don't arrive late! The two of last year were really lazy, and this didn't make a good impression! We all know how they ended."

I'm about to take the lift, when the escort takes me aside.

"What's up?" I ask him.

"I was just wondering if I could accompany you to the limousine," he answers. His tone reveals a certain uneasiness, but I cannot put my finger on it.

"If you must," I say with a shrug.

"Oh, thank you!" he squeals.

We both get on the lift. I press the ground floor button.

"Are you okay?" asks the escort, at a certain point.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I reply.

"I mean… are you okay with all this?"

"All this what?" I ask. Now, I'm really annoyed. I don't like people who talk in riddles!

"It must be hard for you… I mean, dealing with sponsors the way you do. As a matter of fact, our president forbade such things; they belong to the past…"

Now, I see what he's getting at. "Prostitution! Let's call things by their name!" I blurt out.

President Smith may have forbidden it, but prostitution still exists, otherwise I wouldn't sell my body to a man who's thirty years older than me in exchange for support to my tributes and top-quality chewing tobacco.

"I don't mean to criticize. I'm just saying that there might be other solutions and, if any, you could take them into consideration," rebuts the escort, unperturbed.

In the meantime, the lift has reached the ground floor. When its doors open, I immediately get off, but, before leaving the centre, I turn again to the escort. "If you've got any suggestions, let me know later."

…...

_Amanda Thunder (16)- Mentor of District 5_

I'm in the limousine along with Leroy. There's an unnatural silence between us. We usually converse quite easily, but I don't feel at ease right now, so I decide to keep quiet, while I'm looking out of the window, at the shining skyscrapers and the broad streets of the Capitol that are darting before my eyes.

"Nervous?" asks Leroy, breaking the silence.

"A bit," I admit, without turning to him.

He sighs. "It's normal. This is your first year as a mentor, and, on top of that, you knew one of your tributes before the Reaping. I know it's cruel, but you have to make an effort to be as professional and neutral as possible. I'll do my best to help you, but you need to do your part as well, okay?" he goes on.

Despite myself, a slight smile forms on my lips. I like Leroy because he's straightforward, he doesn't even try to sugar the pill. That's what I need, maybe. The fact that Rhonda is in the Games scares me, but it's not only that. I don't know how Leroy has managed to be a mentor for so long and without freaking out. I mean… knowing that the life of two kids is in your hands, and that you won't be able to save both... it's unbearable! I want Rhonda to survive, of course, but doesn't this mean by extension that I want Cliff to die? Does this mean that I'm not a good mentor, then?

"I cannot do this," I state, watching him right in the eye.

"I think the same thing every year, but then here I am," he rebuts with a resigned smile on his lips.

That said, he closes his eyes, and lays his head on the seatback, as if he was trying to sleep.

"I'm not talking in general, Leroy. I cannot be a mentor, I cannot talk about strategy and teamwork after what I did," I rebut.

"If you refer to what happened in the arena, no one can blame you."

"I killed my district partner, Leroy! How can I be considered as a reliable mentor!?"

_This is the seventh day in the arena. A week spent in this frozen inferno. More than half of the tributes died, but not Kevin and I. District 5 has still both its tributes. I know this is a temporary situation, but we will work together for as long as possible. We've done pretty well so far thanks to our determination and to the gifts our mentor sent us. If I manage to make it out alive, I'll express all my gratitude to Leroy. We even found a hiding place that is safe enough, relatively speaking: a mountainous area full of crevices that few would dare to explore, but where you can find some little wooded spots- pine trees mainly. The ideal place to collect wood. At the plant identification station in the Training Center, I even found out that certain types of pinecones have edible seeds called pinenuts. In addition, Kevin managed to catch some little rodents with a snare. As for water, you just need to melt ice. Not a rich meal like those we ate in the Capitol, but better than nothing._

_Kevin and I have parted to gather supplies. We're going to meet again to our base camp before sunset. It is located at the bottom of a crevice. Actually, we've discovered that some crevices in this area are linked together, forming a sort of narrow maze. We've found an access that was easy enough and established our base here for two reasons. First of all, narrow place means less heat loss. Secondly, even if we light a fire, the smoke is barely visible at a distance, because it dissipates while rising. _

_I'm about to reach the top to look at the valley below- better safe than sorry- when I hear someone talk, and it's not Kevin's voice. I immediately hide among the rocks scattered around me, and peek out from them: I can see two Careers- the girl from One and the girl from Two. They're standing on the edge of a crevice, looking down._

_"I told you someone was hiding out here!" says One._

_"But you shouldn't have pushed him off with all his supplies!" replies the other, clearly angry._

_"It was an accident," One justifies herself with a shrug._

_"You lost some precious supplies," insists Two._

_"If you really want them, why don't you go get them? And you could also finish him off while you're in there. His cannon hasn't fired yet."_

_"I'm sick of you!"_

_That said, the girl from Two stabs her ex-ally in the stomach with her sword. The girl from One, taken by surprise, is not able to dodge. The blade penetrates her belly as if it was made of butter. Her garments are now colouring in red, and blood starts flooding from her mouth. The girl keels over on the ground, face-up, her whole body shaking like a leaf. _

_"I'll do better on my own," continues the girl from Two. _

_Then, she retrieves her sword from One's body, wiping the blade on One's garments. A cannon fires. The female tribute of District 1 has just died. Her murderer walks away, as if nothing has happened. Only when I don't hear her steps any longer, I come out of my hiding place, and approach the crevice where the Career girl made her victim fall. I fear it's Kevin. I cannot see the bottom of the crevice from where I stand, and I cannot scream his name neither; the girl from Two could hear me. So, I tie the rope I've got in my backpack to a solid rock, and start climbing down into the crevice. There are little toeholds, the walls are slippery and creak in a sinister way, but I make it. I approach the fallen boy and… it's really Kevin! His backpack must have cushioned his fall, since he's still alive. _

_"Kevin!" I shout- to hell with carefulness!_

_"A-amanda," he whispers back. He must be suffering a lot._

_"Don't worry, the girls are gone. I'll help you to climb up," I say._

_This crevice is isolated, so we have no choice._

_"I… I can't… I can't feel my legs."_

_In fact, he tries to move but in vain. I cover my mouth with my hand, trying to hold back my tears. His back must be broken. He must have understood it as well, since he tells me: "I'm as good as dead, am I not?"_

_"We'll find a solution, as we have done so far," I reply, trying to think positive… or, at least, trying to sound as if I was thinking positive, because, deeper down, I know there's nothing I can do, and I'd like so badly to scream and cry like a baby. Above all, I'm outraged; I want revenge, even if the girl from One is already dead. There's still the girl from Two who's an accomplice, after all._

_Kevin shakes his head- or, at least- he tries- with a sad smile on his pale lips. "No… t-there… there's no hope… and you know it. But you can… you can do me a favour… one last favour…"_

_"What?" I ask, my voice as shrill as that of a mouse._

_"Kill me."_

_"What!? No!"_

_"Please, Amanda. Put… put me… out of my misery. I prefer dying by you… than by… the Careers," he insists, watching me right in the eye._

_I cannot hold his gaze any longer, so I look away, wiping away my tears._

_"Amanda…"_

_I turn to him again. "Okay, I'll do it."_

_I take off my jacket, and use it to suffocate him. He resists little. A cannon fires. Today, my district partner died, a boy who spent all his life in a community home like me, a boy who never knew the love of a true family. _

"Amanda?"

I'm dragged back into reality. I cannot help but wince. Leroy is staring at me with a worried expression on his face.

"It was an act of mercy, Amanda," he says.

"Doesn't change the fact that I killed Kevin," I rebut.

…...

_Jay Grayfogg (27)- Mentor of District 1_

I've arrived at destination: the Rainbow End Hotel, namely the hotel where sponsors reunite. It is a building heptagonal in shape. Every side of the heptagon is painted a colour of the rainbow, starting from the entrance wall painted red. I get in the hotel hall, where the dominant colours are black and while, except for a tableau hung behind the reception desk. It represents a green landscape with a rainbow, which reaches the ground. There's also a strange creature holding a gold pot. I've heard that this tableau refers to a legend of the ancient times, and that Mr. Shane Rainbow- the owner of the hotel- is very fond of it.

The receptionist- a woman with a bowl haircut who's wearing a black-and-white, plaid pantsuit and high heels- recognizes me.

"Good morning, Mr. Grayfogg. This way, please," she greets me in a cold tone.

She accompanies me to the appointed place: a large room whose floor has a chessboard pattern. The center of it is occupied by a circular lounge bar, where they serve any kind of drink. All around the lounge bar, you can find several black sofas and glass coffee tables. If you want to have a more private conversation, there are some smaller rooms called "niches" adjoining the main one. Otherwise, you may take a lift and withdraw in one of the hotel rooms, but I can imagine what kind of conversation could be held in a luxurious bedroom. That's not for me. All sponsors stay here during the Games season, but I've got no intention to deepen the knowledge of them more than is necessary. Anyway, as an experienced mentor, I know that the best place to start from is the lounge bar. My fellow Career mentors join me there: Hippolyta Arrowhead from District 2, and Thalas Marsh from District 4. Hippolyta is a formidable fighter, especially with bow and arrow. Not surprisingly, she's nicknamed "the queen of Amazons". On the other hand, Thalas was the last Career to win the Hunger Games- he won an year after me- and I respect him. He's just a bit obsessed with the colour blue, which makes him look like a Capitolite. Actually, my sole concession to Capitolite flamboyance is the lilac foulard that I always wear. Except for that, I don't like the bright colours of this city.

"Hi, Jay," Hippolyta greets me, sitting between me and Thalas.

"Please, let's skip all the formalities, we're here to talk about strategy, right?" I offer.

She smirks. "As you like."

"Do your tributes want to form an alliance?" I ask them.

"District 2 yes."

"Thalas?"

"My tributes are going to join the pack as well," he answers.

"Also the boy?" I enquire.

"Why not?"

"He didn't seem that convinced yesterday," comments Hippolyta.

"Just because he didn't talk to the others?"

"Well, my tributes saw it as an act of mistrust," she says.

"Don't exaggerate, Hippolyta! Oliver _is_ part of this alliance, that's all you need to know!" he rebuts, clearly annoyed.

"Why do you say that? Is there something I shouldn't know?"

"No, don't worry."

Their argument is interrupted by the arrival of an avox, who gives me an orange note.

NICHE 3

"Oh, looks like someone wants to date you, Jay," comments Hippolyta with an amused smirk on her lips.

I decide to ignore her, and head straight to the appointed niche. A niche is a completely white room that contains only two couches in front of a coffee table, which has a sort of tablet incorporated into it. The sponsor who sent for me is already there. It's a young woman with tanned skin, dark hair combed in a high ponytail, big ,orange eyes, a nose piercing, and a bright red lipstick. Her outfit is definitely eye-catching: she's wearing a sparkly, orange and yellow pantsuit, huge hoop earrings, a gold necklace, several gold bracelets, and orange high heels. She's almost blinding, but I have to admit that she possesses a certain charm that attracts me.

She stands up from her seat to welcome me: "Oh, here you are! My name is Happy Haller! Nice to meet you!" she says, squeezing my hand with great enthusiasm.

We sit down. Then, she bends over the tablet.

"I don't know if you know… ops, sorry for the wordplay"- she giggles- "anyway, this hotel is also a wellness centre specialized in chromotherapy. Do you know what chromotherapy is?" she continues.

"Of course," I reply, even though I haven't got the foggiest idea of what she's talking about.

"What's your favourite colour, dear?"

"I have no favourite colour."

_We're just wasting time! Did she send for me just to talk about nonsense?_

"Oh, come on! Everyone has a favourite colour!" she rebuts, but then, since I keep silent, she goes on herself: "Okay, I'll choose for you! Well, your foulard is lilac, so be it!"

She touches the tablet with one of her long, orange nails, and this produces a creepy, grinding sound. A colour wheel appears on the screen, and Happy selects the colour lilac. Suddenly, the whole room colours in lilac. I wince on my seat. It's my first time in a niche. I've never seen anything like that before.

_"You selected: lilac. This colour is traditionally associated with the homonymous flower. From a mental point of view, it supports your fantasy," _says a robotic voice coming from the tablet.

_Wonderful! I really needed to listen to a documentary!_

"Excellent choice! We'll need a bit of fantasy to talk about sponsorship!" she comments, winking at me.

_Finally!_

"Yes. In this regard, I think that Kyle…" I begin, but she interrupts me by placing her finger on my lips, basically asking me to shut up.

_I've never felt so embarrassed before! Embarrassed? I should feel at least annoyed! What's happening to me?_

"Oh, please let me speak, honey! I've already chosen who I want to support!" she says, getting even closer to me.

_Is she flirting with me?_

"W-who?"

She moves back a little. "Well, this is my first year as a sponsor, so I thought that District 1 would be a safe bet to start with. But I want to risk too, and your Kyle is given by favourite basically by everyone, so I'll focus on Excelsa, instead. I like her determination!"

I could say that Career districts haven't been lucky recently, but I'll keep this comment to myself. I'm glad I found a sponsor at least for Excelsa. And what a sponsor! When I finish with Happy, I'm still embarrassed. No one has ever had this effect on me! I need to calm down! I rush to the lounge bar.

"A gin, please, a with lots of ice!" I order.

* * *

**So, as I said , this was just an introduction. The next chapters about sponsors (I plan to write another before the interviews) will be more focused on the actual sponsorship of tributes. The sponsor I presented here is Happy Haller, who was submitted by _Hawkmaid_. If you're interested, Hawkmaid has recently started a SYOT titled _Phenomenon: the 85th Annual Hunger Games, _and it still needs tributes.**

**What do you think of this chapter?**

**Below, you can find some specific questions about the mentors who have a POV here:**

**Jay: how should he deal with a sponsor like Happy?**

**Amanda: will she manage to be a good mentor?**

**Selena: what do you think of this character?**

**As for submitters, since tributes don't have any POV in this chapter, 20 points can be assigned to the tributes whose mentors have a POV here, namely: Kyle (D1M), Excelsa (D1F), Cliff (D5M), Rhonda (D5F), Timothy (D10M), Estrella (D10F).**

**Thank you a lot for reading and reviewing :)**


	20. Training Day1: a Hint

_Second day in the Capitol_

_Yolanda Underwood (15)- District 12 female tribute_

_The Outsider_

When I find the energy to pull myself out of bed- ah, I've never slept so comfortably in my life!- the first thing I notice is that a black T-shirt and a pair of black pants rest on a chair, right beside my bed. The T-shirt has number 12 printed on its back and on both its sleeves. There is also a pair of leather shoes under the chair. That's my training outfit. I wear it. I take my inhaler from the bedside table, but unfortunately my pants have no pockets to put it in. I snort. Luckily, there's a well-stocked closet in my room. I rummage in it till I find a grey sweater. It's not black, but who cares? It has two pockets, that's what matters.

I join the others in the dining room. They're already having breakfast.

"Good morning, Yolanda. Slept fine?" Terry greets me.

Terry Appalachia, the mentor of District 12. She won the 86th Hunger Games at age sixteen. It must be said that the arena advantaged her- a maze of underground tunnels that was nicknamed "rabbit hole", and she used to work in a mine.

I sit at the black marble table. "Like a log," I reply, while I'm filling a bowl with spoonful of yogurt and wild fruit.

"Excellent, you'll need to be wide awake. Today, first day of training, but we must elaborate a strategy right away," she continues.

"Very true," Alice chimes in… just to say something, I suppose. I don't see what role escorts play at this stage.

"We could form an alliance, Yolanda and I," offers Fabian.

"No," I promptly reply.

In response, everyone in the room turns to me.

"I'm not a reliable ally due to my asthma. I'd rather train on my own," I explain, my eyes fixed on my bowl of yogurt.

"You're joking!" he says, unbelieving.

"No, I'm serious. There can be only one victor, so I'll keep from making connections. Do whatever you want, Fabian, but don't involve me."

"You cannot be serious!"

"Okay, as you wish, Yolanda, I'll train you separately," Terry chimes in.

"What!?" shouts Fabian.

"These things can happen, Fabian. If she doesn't want to join any alliance, we cannot oblige her," she explains.

After finishing breakfast, Fabian and I take the lift to the gym. He doesn't say a word. I didn't mean to offend him, but I preferred to make matters clear right away.

The gym where we will be training for three days is located in a basement. It is high-ceilinged, with different kind of stations scattered here and there. Once all the tributes are reunited, the head trainer- a muscled man, bald, with tanned skin, and frightening, yellow eyes- welcomes us. He lists the rules that we have to follow while training here: basically, we can move around freely, but no conflicts will be permitted. For the entire duration of his explanation, I notice that someone is gazing at me. It's the boy of District 4. What does he want from me?

…...

_Henry Almonds (14)- District 3 male tribute_

_The Chemist_

I head immediately to the plant identification station. Ambra doesn't follow me, though. We're a team, but we've decided to try out stations on our own, and evaluate the situation together during lunch break. In this way, we will be able to develop different skills. A team in which everyone has the same skill is useless… that's what Ambra thinks, and I agree with her.

While I'm matching images of trees with their corresponding fruits on a computer screen, a realization hits me: there's little variety of flora- mainly shrubberies and low plants. Is that a hint about the arena? I finish the exercise in no time, and the trainer compliments me. I don't leave the station immediately though, I stay a bit longer just to see if they change the plants to identify. No, other tributes try after me, but there are always the same plants on the screen. Umm… shrubberies and low plants… does it mean that there will be few hiding places in the arena? What type of landscape should I expect? What kind of weather? Providing few hiding places might be a way to end things quickly. I freeze at the thought.

There's a canteen adjoining the gym. At lunch, I sit at the same table as Ambra.

"How was your morning?" she asks me.

"I tried out the plant identification station," I answer.

"It's not rocket science for you, I suppose," she says, smiling.

"Yeah, but something has surprised… or, rather, worried me."

"What?" she asks.

"Well, I don't know if that's a hint or not, but, given the little variety of plants available, I think that we should except a rather barren arena," I reply.

"A barren arena?" she echoes me with a certain fear in her voice.

"There will be some vegetation but low. I mean… don't expect to find a forest to hide in."

In response, she looks down at her food tray, musing. "The arena is the least of our problems for the moment. Now, we should focus on forming a solid alliance."

"You and I are not enough?" I ask her, a bit surprised.

"I think we should find another ally. Three is better than two."

"And who are you thinking of?"

She points at somebody in front of her. "Christopher, the boy of District 6," she answers.

I turn around. Christopher is eating alone a couple of tables ahead of us.

"I've observed him this morning. He's agile and swift, and good enough at throwing knives. Henry, you're the expert in plants and medical remedies, I am the tactician, and Christopher knows how to use a weapon… the perfect trio," explains Ambra with a self-confident smile on her lips.

"It could work."

"It will. Now, let's go sit at his table!"

She stands up, carrying her food tray. I follow her, trying to ignore the sharp looks some Careers throw at us.

"Could we keep company with you?" Ambra asks Christopher.

He looks up. "S-sure," he replies. Clearly, he didn't expect anybody to talk to him.

Ambra and I sit down. Christopher looks a bit uneasy, but luckily she immediately breaks the ice: "We were wondering if you'd like to join our alliance…"

His eyes light up. "Really? You're not joking, are you?"

"We'd have no reason to joke," I say.

"Yes, we want you in our alliance. I saw you at the obstacle course. Where have you learnt to be that agile?" Ambra continues.

He blushes, scratching behind his ear. "Well, let's say that my life in Six is hectic," he replies. There's a hint of reluctance in his behaviour, but maybe it's just because we're two strangers to him.

"What about your district partner?" I ask him to change the subject.

"Alexa? She's not going to ally with anybody… not with me, at least. I'm too young and weak in her opinion, so if you counted on her…"

"We're interested only in you," Ambra hurries to clarify. "Would you like to join our alliance, then?"

Christopher looks first at her, then at me. He smiles. "Well, you seem good guys, so yes, count on me."

…...

_Vivian "Vivi" Tide (18)- District 4 female tribute_

_The Mermaid_

I look around the canteen. Some alliances have already been formed: the couple of District 3 is talking to the boy from Six, and the tributes from Nine and Thirteen have spent the whole morning together. Smaller groups compared to ours, anyway. The Career pack will be the strongest alliance in the arena this year, and I'm glad to be part of it.

"We could start talking about strategy, if your district partner joined us," Victor addresses me, interrupting my musings.

"He'll come soon," I reply with a slight smile.

"I hope so. Actually, I saw him follow around the girl from Twelve like a puppy. Assuming that he wants to be a Career, what's his plan, then? Does he know that it's training day and not dating day?" he goes on.

"Who knows?" I say with a shrug.

The truth is that Oliver has had a strange attitude towards that girl since he watched her Reaping on the train. I wonder why. Does he know her? No, it can't be, she lives in a whole different district!

"Oh, stop it, Victor! Maybe it's just a crush. Vivian has assured us that her partner is our ally, and we trust her, don't we?" Kyle chimes in.

"Thank you. And please, Kyle, call me Vivi. Vivian is too formal," I say, winking at him.

"I just want to be sure that my allies are worth of my trust. Who made you boss, by the way?"

"Hey, stop arguing, you two! No one is the boss, we're a team!" says Excelsa.

Oliver finally joins us at our table.

"You took your time, Four!"

Victor is in the mood for provocation, apparently.

"Sorry if I'm late," Oliver apologizes.

Victor is about to open his mouth again, but we all scowl at him. Luckily, he understands that he has to keep quiet.

Excelsa takes the word by clearing her throat. "I think we should start elaborating a strategy for the bloodbath. Whatever the arena will be, we need to take control of the cornucopia. My suggestion is to split into two groups: one composed by the fastest, who will rush to the cornucopia, and prevent other tributes from taking supplies; and the other one, which will get rid of possible threats. What do you think?"

"It's a good plan. But on the basis of what criteria will we split?" says Scarlett, speaking monotone.

She speaks little, but, when she does, I can't help feeling a chill down my spine. She always sounds so emotionless.

"Our training performance will determine that. I think we should start observing one another. We'll decide the last day," replies Excelsa.

I feel a knot in my throat. It won't take long for my allies to understand that I lack training. What will they do, then? Will they kick me out of the alliance? Even Kyle, who's always so nice, might turn his back on me… no, I can't let it happen! My best bet is focusing on what I can already do like tying knots and fishing with makeshift spears. Yeah, spears could be my weapon of choice. Spearing fishes, spearing people… doesn't make a big difference, right? I'm definitely not going to use tridents… I mean, I've never seen anyone use a trident in District 4! Why do they still consider it as our representative weapon, then? How ridiculous!

…...

_Victor Blade (18)- District 2 male tribute_

_The Envious _

After finishing lunch, I head straight to the sword station. I need to blow off some steam! I start mutilating dummies with such a fury, that even the trainer assigned to this station backs off. Excelsa said that no one is the boss, but didn't she behave as such, in the end? And the others were all eating out of her hand! Then, that Oliver… what does he want to do? Should I really accept to have a brat in love as an ally? And Kyle even defended him! _Stop it, Victor! It's just a crush_… just because he's the son of two victors doesn't mean that he can say whatever he wants! A Career pack!? No, it's a bunch of idiots!

"Hey! Let others have some fun too!" complains a voice behind my back.

I turn around. Scarlett is staring at me with her cold eyes, her arms crossed.

"What do you want?" I ask her, annoyed.

"You're not very polite, Victor."

"Don't make me lose my temper!"

She smirks. "Haven't you lost it yet?"

"Scarlett…"

She interrupts me: "I was just observing you, as Excelsa recommended. I wonder if I should tell our allies that you're not the chosen tribute… nah, let them find out themselves how incapable and unreliable you are."

"Is that a threat?"

"A warning," she corrects me.

That said, she walks away. I resume my exercise, angrier than before. But it looks like I cannot train in peace today, because someone else interrupts me: it's the boy of District 10.

"I'd like to try as well, you cannot monopolize a station just because you're a Career," he points out in an arrogant manner.

I come closer to him. "Oh, really? And who'll stop me? You?" I say, defiant.

"Step aside," he rebuts, speaking slowly.

He's watching me right in the eye… oh, how much I hate when people look at me like that! That's the gaze of someone who's used to looking down to others, I know it very well… this boy must be privileged in his district.

"No," I reply. "What are you going to do now?"

In response, he clenches his fists. I smirk. _Yeah, let's see what you can do, Ten…_

But a couple of trainers intervene to separate us.

"Please, Tim, come away," whispers his district partner, who has stood aside all the time.

"Yes, Tim, listen to her!"

"Don't you dare…"

"Beware, you could be the first to die!"

The trainers push us apart. I return to the sword station, and the couple from District 10 walks away.

…...

_Estrella Sol (17)- District 10 female tribute_

_The Rejected_

Tim is walking so fast that I struggle to keep up with him. The boy from District 2 has really got on his nerves, but what did he except from a Career? Careers are usually arrogant and full of themselves; they've been training all their lives for the Hunger Games, and they're well aware of their superiority, so it was quite obvious that he wouldn't let Tim stay. Tim has even defied him! What's the matter with him? He has never been a brawler!

"Is everything okay?" I ask him, when he finally stops.

"Nothing is okay!" he shouts.

"That boy was rude, but you shouldn't get angry about him, it's not worth it," I say, trying to soothe him.

"It's not worth it!? Careers have had plenty of time to prepare for this, but they still want more training! What for? They should… I don't know… is it so wrong to think that they should let others try as well? At least to have a chance…"

"It's not wrong, Tim, but they don't think like that. We can only try to avoid them; there's no use in antagonizing them, once in the arena they'll try to kill you in any case."

"That's the point."

"But a good alliance could…"

"Don't want to know about alliances," he states, interrupting me.

"What? Why?" I ask him, bewildered.

"Isn't that obvious? As you said, Careers will try to kill us all, but hunting down a group is easier than finding a loner. The less connections the better," he explains.

"But I though t-that…" I stammer.

"What? That we would be in the same alliance? Sorry to disappoint you, but if I ally with someone, this someone will be reliable… and you're not reliable due to your sentiments!"

"How can you say that?" I protest.

Why does he treat me like that? He doesn't need to be so cruel!

"Estrella! If I asked you to die for me, you would! I want a fighter as an ally, not a martyr!"

At this stage, he walks away. I'm about to follow him, but someone holds my arm out of a sudden. I immediately turn around. It's a girl with two golden braids, blue-grey eyes, and freckles on her nose- the female tribute of District 9, if I don't mistake.

"Don't follow him, if you have dignity," she tells me.

"What?"

"Follow him, if you want, but you won't work things out, I assure you. You'll just let him break your heart even more," she goes on.

"You don't know anything about us!" I retort.

"Well, you're in love with him, but he constantly rejects you, making you suffer. Is there anything else I need to know?

"Touché."

She lets go of my arm, smiling. "Instead of wasting time with him, why don't you join our alliance? We'd be five with you… enough to keep away those hateful Careers," she offers.

I consider it for a moment. "You, I, and who?"

"The tributes from Thirteen and my district partner- he's little annoying, in my opinion. See? You're not the only one who has a problem with men," she answers.

I'm taken aback by her frankness, but I like her. After all, if Tim doesn't want me as an ally, it doesn't mean that I cannot look for other alliances, does it? No matter in what alliance you're in, tributes fight all for themselves, in the end. I've got a family back home- my friend Celina and my grandma. I hope they're fine, especially my grandma…

"You can take your time before answering. I'm Rebecca, by the way," she says.

I shake hands with her. "Estrella. And I don't need to take my time, my answer is yes."

* * *

**What kind of arena do you think I chose? Those who guess will earn 50 POINTS. I will PM you in case (a little disclaimer: don't look at the cover image, because I'm going to change it after presenting the arena). **

**Submitters can assign points to: Victor (D2M), Henry (D3M), Vivian (D4F), Estrella (D10F), Yolanda (D12F)**

**Specific questions about tributes:**

**Victor: what do you think of his attitude?**

**Henry: what do you think of the perfect trio? **

**Vivian: will she manage to impress her fellow Careers?**

**Estrella: joining the rebel alliance was a good choice in your opinion?**

**Yolanda: do you agree with her decision to train on her own?**

**Current status of alliances:**

\- **Careers: Kyle (D1M), Excelsa (D1F), Victor (D2M), Scarlett (D2F), Oliver (D4M), Vivian (D4F)**

\- **Rebel alliance: Adam (D9M), Rebecca (D9F), Estrella (D10F), Owen (D13M), Christine (D13F)**

\- **The perfect trio: Henry (D3M), Ambra (D3F), Christopher (D6M)**

\- **Loners: Alexa (D6F), Timothy (D10M), Yolanda (D12F)**

**Thank you a lot for reading. Please, leave a review, if you liked this chapter. I'm always glad to know what you think :) **


	21. Training Day2: Reassembling

**Hi, everyone! Some info before we start: since we've almost got to the most important part- namely the arena- I've decided to give priority to this story, in the sense that I'm going to upload more chapters in a row than usual (not many chapters though, maximum 2 or 3). Don't worry, I won't forget about ****_Divine Punishment_****, I will just update it less frequently. I take this opportunity to thank all those who have supported me so far, you are fantastic! Please, stay tuned!**

**Now, let's move to the second day of training! Enjoy your reading :)**

* * *

_Third day in the Capitol_

_Tartan Dye (13)- District 8 male tribute_

_The Painter_

_I start coughing. I've got an awful sore throat. I cover my mouth with both my hands, hoping that it will stop soon. I feel a sharp pain also in my chest and in my back. When I finally stop coughing, I uncover my mouth, trying to catch my breath. But every breath is torture. At some point, I look at my hands. They're blood stained! Consumption, the plague of my family! No, please, I cannot get sick now, I have to fight! I rush to the bathroom to wash my hands, but it doesn't work, those blood stains are still there, no matter how much water I use…_

… I wake up! I'm in bed, in my room, in Capitol City. My body is covered in sweat. I look at my hands. They're clean. No blood, no pain. It was just a nightmare.

Autumn enters the room. "Tartan, is everything okay? I heard you moan," she says in a gentle tone.

"Just a bad dream," I explain.

She sits on my bed. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No, thanks. Nothing important, really."

"Okay. I'll expect you for breakfast," she replies, smiling.

"Ehm… you go, I'm not that hungry this morning. Yesterday's dinner hasn't sit well with me," I say.

"Sometimes, a heavy dinner may cause a fitful sleep," she points out.

"I don't know, I'm not accustomed to heavy dinners," I rebut with a shrug.

She looks down in response, feeling clearly uncomfortable. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

I bite my lip. I'm an idiot! "No, it's me who should apologize… I talked nonsense! I'm really sorry!"

She stands up. "No, you're right, I shouldn't brag about my family's wealth."

"But you didn't…"

"Don't worry, Tartan, it's okay," she interrupts me, and then leaves me alone.

I flop down on my bed. I feel so stupid now! Autumn has always been kind to me, like a sort of protective older sister, and I treat her like that!? She has decided to ally with me, even though I'm not the best ally she could find. I wonder why. Out of pity? Maybe. Out of district pride? Who knows? In any case, I don't want to be a burden.

Anyway, the best thing that I can do now is getting ready for another training day. I have a quick shower to sweat off my body. When I'm finished, I wear my training outfit. I cross the dining room and greet Gemini and Miranda, who are, however, too busy flirting to reply. I take the lift along with Autumn, then. She doesn't seem neither offended nor sad, she just smiles as always.

"I'd like to try different stations today," I say just to break the ice.

She nods in response. "I'll follow you."

When the doors of the lift open, I head immediately to what they call "Arena Simulator" along with Autumn. I don't know exactly how it works, but I'm curious to find out. Unfortunately, we get there exactly at the same time as one of the Careers- the boy from District 1. He certainly wants to try first… but no, he bows instead.

"Ladies first!" he says, mimicking the Capitolite accent… but his imitation is so clunky that I cannot help chuckling.

"Nice imitation," comments Autumn, who's trying not to laugh.

"Yeah… I'm ridiculous, am I not?" he replies, scratching behind his ear.

At this point, the instructor assigned to this station clears her throat and starts explaining: "This is the Arena Simulator. It makes use of virtual reality to simulate different kinds of situation in which you might find yourself once in the arena. You just need to sit there, select the conditions you want from this computer, wear this VR headset, and the simulation will start. During the simulation, you'll wear seatbelts. That's just a security precaution: people tend to imitate what they do in the simulation with their real bodies, and we don't want you to get hurt. Any questions?"

No one answers.

"Very well, then. Who's first?"

"Madame," says the boy, addressing Autumn.

"It's Tartan who's interested in this station," she replies.

"May I go first, then?" I ask him.

"Of course," he answers with a smile.

I sit down, and start looking at the computer menu. There are basically four kinds of condition you need to set before starting: type of situation, arena (you have to choose one of the past arenas), day/night, weather. Here's what I choose:

\- Type of situation: bloodbath (which is what scares me the most)

\- Arena: arena of the 98th Hunger Games- frozen landscape with geysers

\- Day/night: day

\- Weather: clear

I fasten the seatbelts, and put on the VR headset. Some writing appears before my eyes: SIMULATION LOADING. Once the loading is done, I immediately find myself on a pedestal. All around me, a frozen wasteland. The simulation is so realistic that I can even feel cold. There are other pedestals in a circle about the golden cornucopia. On each pedestal, a tribute. They reconstruct the physiognomies of past tributes for these simulations, I suppose. Quite impressive. In the meantime, the countdown has already begun.

I take a deep breath. _Okay, calm down, this is NOT the real bloodbath!_

When the gong eventually sounds, I jump off my pedestal, and rush to the nearest backpack I see. I kneel down to grab it, hoping to find a weapon in it. I'm still rummaging in it, when I suddenly feel a sharp pain in my back. Someone has just stabbed me! I didn't think I would feel pain even in a simulation! I keel over on the ground.

_This is just a simulation, this is just a simulation…_

I look up, and I see who's stabbed me. It's… no, it can't be… it's my brother! How cruel!

"Denim…" I whisper, stretching my hand out to touch him… but everything goes dark again.

Another writing appears: YOU DIED. SIMULATION OVER.

…...

_Kyle Whiteswan (17)- District 1 male tribute_

_The Empathetic_

While Tartan is trying the Arena Simulator, I wait for my turn alongside his district partner, Autumn. She's the child of a victor… like me. I feel the need to talk to her about this fact to know how she deals with it. But I don't know if she shares this desire. Well, it's worth a shot, right? I see nothing wrong with conversing.

"Your parents must be proud of you, you're following their footsteps," says Autumn, anticipating me.

How could she do it?

"And now you're asking yourself how I could know you wanted to talk about our parents," she adds with a smile.

"Precisely," I admit.

"It's not always easy… I mean, knowing that my father had to kill in order to survive… but I'll find myself in the same situation soon, so no need to dwell on that. Anyway, since you're a Career, you may think otherwise, or maybe not."

It feels like she knows my true feelings towards the Hunger Games, but I don't know whether I should be relieved or scared. Is it safe to expose myself right now? Or would I better keep silent?

"It's not easy even for a Career like me. It depends on the person, I suppose," I say.

A reply somewhere in between, I hope.

"You don't need to play the strong Career with me, Mr. Whiteswan. I watched your Reaping; you didn't let that boy volunteer for you not because you wanted to be in the Games, but because you wanted to save his life. You're a good guy, in the end," she points out.

"If you know me so well, then call me Kyle. Mr. Whiteswan is my father. Apparently, you're good at reading people," I reply, smiling.

"I'm an actress, I can understand when people pretend. But don't worry, I won't say anything to your allies. I don't think they would believe me. Anyway, a little tip: when you play a character that is different from your true self, you need to play it fully. I mean, you cannot let your true feelings betray you, you need even to think as that character. Basically, you should be a different person while playing," she explains.

"Uh… thank you."

Suddenly, Tartan takes off the VR headset. He unfastens the seatbelts with shaking hands. He looks rather shocked. What has he seen in the simulation to react like that?

"Hey, Tartan. You okay?" Autumn addresses him in a worried tone.

He doesn't say anything in response, he just runs away.

"Tartan!" she shouts.

I follow him. He has crawled up in a ball in one corner. He's crying. I kneel down beside him, one hand on his back. He winces at my touch. He looks at me with his reddish eyes.

"W-what… what do you want? If you want to kill me, do it now! It was… it was a tribute from your district who killed him! Why don't you get rid of the remaining brother?" he stammers, while sobbing.

"What have you seen in the simulation?" I ask him.

"I-I know he couldn't be there, but… he s-seemed so real…"

"You saw your brother, didn't you?" says Autumn, who has just joined us. She's standing behind my back.

Tartan nods in response.

"He lost his brother in the Games of last year *****," she whispers to me.

I feel bad for him. He had to watch his brother die in a horrible way, and in addition he was forced to relive this painful memory in the simulation. How can Gamemakers be so heartless? What's the point of raging on him? He's a tribute in the Hunger Games, isn't that enough? I cannot speak my mind too openly, but I can at least try to make Tartan feel better.

"The Games are cruel in all their parts, but, if your brother was here, he wouldn't want to see you like that, he would want you to fight for your life," I say in a gentle tone.

If I want to win, all my fellow tributes have to die, but how could I live with this knowledge? How could I live knowing that my victory costed the blood of innocent children like Tartan? Maybe I should follow Autumn's advice: I should wear a mask and hide my true feelings behind it.

…...

_Tobias Jackson (13)- District 11 male tribute_

_The Breadwinner_

The casserole we have today for lunch is delicious. It is so soft that it melts in my mouth. This is heaven. Both Maya and I are eating like tomorrow doesn't exist. We are clearly not accustomed to such abundance of food. If our escort could see us right now, she would probably scold us, because we haven't got what she calls "table manners" at all. Actually, she gave us a lecture on that on the train- how to behave at table, which cutlery to use, and so on- but it was so boring! I mean, if one spends half of their life starving, what's the point of table manners? But Capitolites haven't got this problem, right? They live in luxury. This huge gap between the Capitol and the districts shouldn't exist. If I think of how much I struggle to make a living for me and my family, while Capitolites are rich without doing anything at all, my blood boils.

Luckily, Maya decides to talk about strategy. I need to focus on that, after all, not to think of injustices.

"Rod hasn't said much about strategy, but we should start somewhere, I suppose," she shyly remarks.

"Tsk... he gave up the very first time he saw us, believe me," I rebut.

It's a fact. Our mentor hasn't been helpful at all so far. Actually, we see him only at dinner, and he speaks little. Where does he spend the rest of the day? What does he do? Who knows? Our escort says that he's just a drunkard. Well, we could understand that ourselves, since Rod stinks of alcohol almost all the time. I wonder how a person can become like this.

"Maybe he's still angry, because we destroyed our costumes at the parade," she offers.

"Nah, that was really funny!"

"For us," she says, looking down. "But maybe it wasn't a great idea."

Oh, Maya is so similar to my sister Flo! She's always afraid of making mistakes.

"I don't think so. We've got noticed, that's what the audience wants," I point out.

"Okay."

"So, what are your strengths, Maya?" I ask her, changing the subject.

"Umm… I'm little and silent, so I can hide quite easily. People tend to ignore me, so, if I stole some food, no one would probably notice it," she answers.

"That's something."

"What about you?"

"Well, I can climb trees and recognize some plants. I work as fruit gatherer, so I'm accustomed to fatigue."

"What about weapons? To be sincere, I'm afraid of using them, but… you know, we haven't much choice."

"I think we could try something light like…"

But I don't finish my utterance, because I see the boy from District 12 approach our table. I've already noticed him. He has spent most of the time wandering from station to station, desperately looking for a good alliance. Apparently, his district partner wants to train on her own. I knew he would come to ask us as well. We're his last resort, since all the alliances seem to be already consolidated.

"Hi, guys," he greets us.

"Hi," Maya greets back.

"May I sit here?" he asks.

"Sure," she replies with a smile.

_What are you doing, Maya?_

"I don't want to beat about the bush, guys, so I'll go straight to the point: would you like to ally with me?"

"At most, it's _you _who allies with us," I point out.

"As you wish, Tom."

"My name is Tobias!"

"Ops, sorry," he apologizes, giggling.

"What can you do, Twelve?" I ask him, annoyed by his behaviour- I mean, you're desperate, you need allies… therefore, you should be more serious!

"Glad you asked me," he answers with a self-confident smile.

He stands up, and heads to the spear station. Both Maya and I follow him. He grabs one spear, and makes it twirl with only one hand. I must admit that he's showing great dexterity. Eventually, he takes aim, and throws the spear at a dummy. It gets lodged in its stomach.

"Well done," says Maya, impressed.

"Thank you. Am I in, then?" he replies, grinning.

"Maya and I need to discuss first," I chime in.

"Okay," he says, but doesn't move.

"In private," I add.

In response, he holds his hands up in an act of surrender, and then goes sit at our table.

"Why don't you want him?" Maya asks me, as soon as we're alone.

"He's arrogant, I don't like him," I answer.

"But he's capable. We need him, Tobias, and Rod would be glad to know that we've found an ally," she retorts.

"To hell with Rod! But, yeah, you're right, Maya, he's capable."

"Give him a chance, Tobias! Please, do it for me!" she begs me.

I sigh. "Okay."

The truth is that I'm not able to say no to Maya.

"Thank you," she replies with a wide smile.

Maya hugs me. After that, we join our new ally at table, and give him the news.

"Thank you for accepting me, guys. I'm Fabian, by the way. The other tributes may consider us as underdogs, but we'll show them who we are!"

…...

_Adam Thorn (18)- District 9 male tribute_

_The Fiancé_

I decide to try the archery station. Sickles are District 9's representative weapons, but they're not always present in the arena. I'm more likely to get my hands on a bow. To be sincere, I've never done archery, but this is as good a time as any to begin, I suppose. Bows are such elegant weapons. If I become good enough, maybe Rebecca will start seeing me in a different light, instead of worshipping Owen just because he's a Coin.

I grab a bow, take an arrow from a quiver, nock it, aim, and shoot at the human-shaped silhouette in front of me… but I miss the target. Frustrated, I try another time, but I miss again. At this stage, the trainer assigned to this station approaches me.

"Your posture is wrong," he explains. "Relax your shoulders, you're all hunched over. Keep the bow closer to your chest- yes, like that- and you can draw the bowstring a little more- don't worry, it won't snap. A little tip: think of the arrow as an extension of your sight. Close one eye to aim better. Remember… the arrow has to hit the target first in your mind."

I aim again, and this time it goes better: I hit an arm.

"Much better," the trainer compliments me.

Thanks to his advice and to some practice, I manage to improve my aim. I start getting the hang of it. I leave the archery station just because my arms ache, I need a break. I didn't think I would strain my muscles that much.

Maybe I should try a station that does not involve physical exertion like the plant identification station… but then I see them. Rebecca is seated on a bench, and Owen is bringing a bottle of water to her. They're talking cheerfully. At some point, he sits close to her… too close for my liking. They look like a couple! My blood is now boiling in my veins! I quickly approach them.

"Hey! She's my girlfriend!" I shout at Owen.

"I'm not your girlfriend, Adam!" retorts Rebecca, while standing up.

"Calm down, you two," Owen chimes in, coming between Rebecca and me. "I was just talking to her, there's nothing wrong wth that, right?" he adds, addressing me.

"Oh, shut up!"

That said, I grab Rebecca's arm to pull her away. "Come with me! I want to talk to you in private!"

We withdraw in one corner of the gym.

"What's the hell are you doing, Adam? I'm not your property! Can you understand that?" she complains.

"Listen to me. I'm trying to prevent you from making a terrible mistake. You're certainly aware of the fact that they cannot let Owen win; as a consequence, being associated with him could be extremely dangerous to you," I explain, putting my hands on her shoulders.

"The truth is that you're jealous!"

I sigh. "Yes, I'm jealous, I admit it! Because I do care about you! To be sincere, I didn't agree with the idea of allying with District 13, but you seemed so enthusiast that I gave up. Now, you're exaggerating, though!"

"Why? Because I'm interested in another boy?" she replies, defiant.

"He's the wrong boy, Rebecca!" I insist.

"This decision is not up to you," she rebuts.

"Please, Rebecca, I… anyone but him. He's doomed due to his own name… I fear that he could be your doom as well," I say, looking down.

"We are all doomed, Adam."

"No, there's still hope for you!"

"Because I'm part of a good alliance… but if you don't feel at ease there, you'd better leave."

"Is that what you want?" I enquire, watching her right in the eye.

She looks down, without answering.

"Okay, okay, if you want me to leave the alliance, I'll do it. I'm out," I say, holding my hands up.

"Adam…"

"No need to say anything."

I walk away, heading again to the archery station. A little practice will help me to mind off. How could Rebecca betray me like that? I just wanted to protect her, I even volunteered for this reason! Ah, it's all the fault of that Coin! He has bewitched her somehow! Just because he's a Coin, that's how! But he wasn't even born when the rebellion started! Once in the arena, I'm sure Rebecca will understand that he's not a trustworthy ally, and she will look for me. Besides, I can protect her even from outside her alliance.

…...

_Cliff Wells (14)- District 5 male tribute_

_The Dam Worker_

The gym is equipped also with the so called "climbing garden"- a wall with several handholds to climb up. That's what Rhonda and I are trying right now. Who knows? Maybe we'll need to climb a mountain in the arena. In any case, I'm stronger than my ally. Now, there's a harness that prevents us from falling, but we won't be so well-equipped in the arena. If Rhonda is so weak, she won't stand a chance. The fact that our mentor Amanda is her friend won't save her life. She could she her gifts, from which I might benefit as well, but would that be enough?

A buzzer sounds, signalling that another training day is over. Rhonda and I climb down the wall. A trainer helps us to remove the harness. We take the lift to our floor. Either of us say a word. I have a shower, and get ready for dinner. At table, there's the whole prep team: our mentors, Amanda and Leroy; our escort Kira; and our stylists, Chloe and Florian. A couple of avoxes start serving the first course- chicken pieces with almonds, all accompanied by a sweet-and-sour sauce, but I don't know how it is called.

"How was your training?" Amanda asks Rhonda and me.

"Good. We tried different stations," she answers.

"Have you found other allies?"

"All the alliances are already formed, for what I've seen," I reply with a shrug.

"I see."

"Well, an alliance only between district partners is not that bad, after all. Amanda, you allied with your partner last year, and you two did pretty well," comments Florian.

Amanda looks down in response. Apparently, the memory of the way her district partner died still hurts. She had to kill him, I can't even imagine what she felt.

"We have presented you as united allies since the parade, and I think we should proceed with this strategy. Florian and I are actually thinking of complementary outfits also for your interviews," adds Chloe.

United allies!? We barely talk to each other! I know it's partly my fault, because at the parade I hinted that she may get more help than me, since Amanda is her friend, but that's the way things are, right?

"The interviews are the least of our problems now. First of all, we'd better think of your private sessions. Have you got an idea of what to show the Gamemakers?" Leroy chimes in.

"I've learned to tie knots. In addition, I can set a trap," I promptly answer.

After that, everyone at table watches Rhonda, who's not as prompt as I was. "Well, I-I… I haven't thought of that yet… maybe I could start a fire… o-or identify plants," she stammers, uneasy.

"Umm… survival skills, basically. What about weapons?"

"Leroy…" says Amanda.

"What? You know they'll need them sooner or later! The fact that you won last year isn't enough to gain sponsors!" he points out.

The room falls silent for a while. Leroy is right: we'll need to use weapons… if we survive, of course. I could try with something not too demanding like knives. And Rhonda? Her tiny hands don't seem suited to handling weapons at all. To be sincere, I've allied with her just to make things simpler for our mentors.

It's Leroy who breaks the silence: "If you haven't tried any weapons so far, please do it tomorrow. It's your last chance. We'll talk about your strategy for the interviews and the arena after knowing your training scores."

* * *

**So, also the second day of training is over. What do you think of the Arena Simulator?**

**Submitters ****can assign points to: Kyle (D1M), Cliff (D5M), Tartan (D8M), Adam (D9M), Tobias (D11M)**

**Specific questions about tributes:**

**Kyle: will he manage to play the strong Career?**

**Cliff: what strategy should he adopt? **

**Tartan: what do you think of his relation to Autumn?**

**Adam: do you agree with his decision to leave the rebel alliance?**

**Tobias: should he really accept Fabian in his alliance?**

**Current status of alliances:**

**\- Careers: Kyle (D1M), Excelsa (D1F), Victor (D2M), Scarlett (D2F), Oliver (D4M), Vivian (D4F)**

**\- Rebel alliance: Rebecca (D9F), Estrella (D10F), Owen (D13M), Christine (D13F)**

**\- The perfect trio: Henry (D3M), Ambra (D3F), Christopher (D6M)**

**\- I don't want to be a burden: Tartan (D8M), Autumn (D8F)**

**\- Underdogs: Tobias (D11M), Maya (D11F), Fabian (D12M)**

**\- Not so united: Cliff (D5M), Rhonda (D5F) **

**\- Loners: Alexa (D6F), Adam (D9M), Timothy (D10M), Yolanda (D12F)**

**As for my next updates, I will first finish the training part of this story (including the private sessions) before updating _Divine Punishment_. **

**Thank you for reading and reviewing :)**

* * *

***See chapter 10 (D8 Reaping)**


	22. Training Day3: Last Decisions

_Forth day in the Capitol_

_Owen Coin (18)- District 13 male tribute_

_The Memory_

When I meet Rebecca this morning, she seems a bit uneasy. It must be due to what happened yesterday with her district partner, Adam. I was just talking to her, when he attacked us. He is clearly jealous of her… but his jealousy is misdirected. Rebecca is a wonderful girl, but she's only a friend. Just because we get along with each other doesn't mean that we're in love, right? Adam didn't need to leave our alliance. Now, he's alone… but nothing I could say would ever convince him to retrace his steps.

"Hi, Rebecca. How are you?" I greet her.

In response, she apologizes for what happened yesterday: "I'm sorry. Adam can be so stubborn at times…"

I interrupt her: "Don't worry. He has made his choice. Our alliance may be weaker now, but four is better than nothing."

"What do our allies think of his choice?"

"Well… honestly, it wasn't totally unexpected. There was some tension between Adam and me even before yesterday."

"And it's all my fault," she adds, but she doesn't seem to feel guilty about that.

"Why does he believe that you're his girlfriend?" I ask her.

She blushes. "We were engaged, Adam proposed to me right before the Reaping, but… let's say that I was kind of forced to accept. It's a complicated story," she answers, clearly uncomfortable with this subject.

"You don't love him, then."

"No… I mean… I have nothing against him, but… sometimes, I get the impression that his love for me is an obsession… but I don't want to think of him right now, so, please, let's talk about something else!

"Okay. Wanna do some training?" I offer.

She nods in response. We head to the camouflage station, where we learn how to blend in the shrubberies. We make some makeshift caps by using leaves and branches, then we decide to try them out. There are indeed some fake shrubberies with which we can practice.

At some point, the trainer assigned to this station chimes in: "Face paint will make your camouflages more effective. Here, you can use chemicals, but in the arena even soil will do."

We do as suggested. Rebecca uses a mixture of green and brown to paint her face. When she's finished, she wears her cap, and goes hide in a shrubbery.

"Can you see me, Owen?" she asks in a whisper.

I must admit that her camouflage works. I approach her. Now, I can see her eyes, and hear her breath.

"Well, you're almost invisible, except for your eyes. Maybe you should close them and paint also your eyelids, in case someone gets too closed. In addition, you'd better breathe slowlier," I remark.

She comes out of her hiding. "Thank you for advising me," she says with a smile, her white teeth enhanced by the face paint.

"You're welcome."

We use a towel soaked with solvent to clean our faces, but that of Rececca is still a bit brown.

I cannot help but chuckle. "Hey, the sun is scorching out here!" I tease her.

"Why don't you sunbathe as well?" she replies, using her dirty towel to smear my face.

"Hey, no!" I protest, giggling.

She bursts out laughing.

"Here I come!"

She runs away in response, and I chase her. Eventually, I manage to trap her in one corner.

"Beg for mercy, Rebecca!" I say, while catching my breath.

She's panting as well. At some point, she smiles, and then… then she kisses me out of a sudden.

"Rebecca…" I say, as soon as she steps back.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to die in the arena, and you know it."

"Don't talk like that."

"They cannot let me win," I insist.

She doesn't say anything in response. She just keeps on staring at me with her wonderful, blue-grey eyes.

…...

_Timothy "Tim" Cunningham (18)- District 10 male tribute_

_The Rancher_

Last day of training. I cannot waste it. I've already tried out the most useful stations in these days, but I've got no ally. Time to fix it. I know who I should ask: Adam Thorn from District 9. I've observed him and his ex-allies since Estrella has joined them. He has left his former alliance due to his district partner, who loves buzzing around the boy of Thirteen… that bitch. But a broken heart is a good pretext.

I find Adam at the archery station. I must admit that he's pretty good with bow and arrow. If I convince him to ally with me, he'll be helpful in the arena. I don't like the idea of spilling blood, but what choice do we have? Either you kill or you get killed, that's how the Hunger Games work. Anyway, I must hurry up. If someone else notices Adam's talent, they could have the same idea, and I cannot afford to miss a capable ally.

"Looks like you're a good archer," I compliment him.

He turns around, training his dark green eyes on me. He doesn't say anything at first, as if he was trying to understand whether he can trust me or not.

"It's truly a pity that someone like you hasn't got any allies," I go on.

"And who would you recommend as an ally? Yourself, I assume," he replies.

"Could be an idea," I say with a shrug.

"Why me?"

"You seem strong and capable."

"Careers are strong and capable as well," he retorts.

I smirk, while getting closer to him. "Yes, but they fight for glory; they don't think of their families back home. Don't you think that love is a nobler aim than glory?"

"What are you getting at?" he asks with a frown.

"I know that your district partner has betrayed your trust to follow a boy who is- forgive my bluntness- already doomed. You must admit that Rebecca has ruined everything with her fickle behaviour… believe me, I know what it means."

"Because of what happened with _your_ district partner?"

"Estrella is besotted. Therefore, you shouldn't trust what she says. She's not able to accept the fact that I don't love her. But love makes you blind… or so they say. Friendship is a more reliable thing in my opinion. That's precisely what I'm offering to you: a good friendship between two lone men… or, if you don't want to be my friend, just mutual help in the arena. What do you think?"

He considers my proposal for a moment. "What can you do?" he asks me, eventually.

"I can wrestle, and I've learned to set snares here in the Training Center," I answer.

"Show me."

Tributes mustn't fight against each other during training, so I draw the attention of one of the male trainers, and ask him to spar. My performance must have convinced Adam, because, once I'm finished, he says: "Okay, deal."

…...

_Ambra Clares (16)- District 3 female tribute_

_The Tactician_

I tried the obstacle course this morning. A little physical exertion won't hurt. I like thinking that I'm the brains of my alliance, but this doesn't mean that I don't need training at all. I'm going to do my part in the arena, that's for sure. I'm weary now, so I'll have a break. I go sit on a bench right beside Henry, who's watching Chris throw knives.

"What do you think of him?" I ask Henry.

"I like him, and he's also capable… but I don't think he has learned how to use knives in only three days, he must have learnt it before," he answers, keeping his eyes trained on Christopher.

I nod in response. I was wondering about that as well. The day we proposed to him to join our alliance, Chris told us that his life in District 6 was hectic, but I still don't know what he meant by that. Actually, his district is notorious for criminal gangs and morphlings, and I wonder what our ally does for a living. Yes, he said he was an orphan, but… ah! He probably lives in a dreary community home. I shouldn't judge him a priori!

"Anyway, I think we can trust him. He doesn't seem the type that would betray his allies," adds Henry, turning to me.

"But who knows what might happen in the arena?" I grimly retort.

"You're not going to turn your back on him, I hope."

"Of course not. I was just… I don't know… talking nonsense."

He sighs. "No, you're right, the arena may change many things. None of us thinks that we can kill another person, and yet we'll probably be forced to do it. The Games are closer and closer, and I… I'm scared."

I look at him. "Me too. But we need to be ready for the arena… for the bloodbath in primis."

He nods in response. "Any suggestions?" he asks.

"Flee as soon as possible… we could try to grab a backpack, but we must be quick. Doesn't matter if we're not together, we'll find ourselves in one way or another. In any case, the most important thing is our survival. I know it's not a great strategy, but we cannot make a detailed plan before knowing in what kind of arena we'll end up. Actually, we're more likely to improvise," I answer.

I don't like improvising, that's not my style, I'd rather know exactly what I have to do. But I have no choice, right? Henry may have understood something about the arena, but he has just tried to guess in the end. What if we ended up in a totally unexpected environment? Gamemakers are capable of anything.

"Better than nothing," comments Henry, shrugging.

"The countdown lasts sixty seconds. We'll have some time to choose the best direction to which flee. In any case, that's the best bloodbath strategy I can think of. We'll develop a proper plan as soon as we find a safe place to hide… I mean, as safe as possible."

Yeah, as safe as possible, because we will soon be trapped in the deadliest place on earth, and the best thing I can do to survive is keeping a cool head. No room for fear or other silly sentiments… in this way, I might be able to see again those I love.

…...

_Christopher "Chris" Terranova (12)- District 6 male tribute_

_The Explorer_

I'm practicing with knives, which is something easy for me. As a matter of fact, knives are very useful on the streets. I've never used them to hurt or, worse, to kill a person, though. Murder is not part of August's philosophy. We may rob, but you'll never see a member of his family kill. It's a sort of honour code, and I agree with it… but in the arena? What will happen there? Will I be able to respect this code as I've done so far?

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that my allies are watching me train. They're also talking to each other at the same time. I cannot hear them, but I wonder if they're talking about me.

_"Do you think they'd like to talk to us after what we have become?"_

_"What do you mean, Mary?"_

_"We're robbers, criminals… they're likely to be frightened by us."_

I've been replaying this conversation over and over in my mind. It took place at the Reaping, and I was with Mary. Oh, Mary… I hope she's fine! I wanted to talk to our ex-roommates to convince them to run away from the community home as we had done, but she told me I couldn't due to what we had become. Now, I'm wondering what my allies would do, if they found out who I am. Should I tell them the truth? Or should I keep silent? Would they really be frightened by me?

Honestly, I can't imagine anyone being frightened by me. I mean… Careers are far more frightening than me, aren't they? Just because I know how to handle a knife… no, the arena won't turn me into a bloodthirsty monster! I cannot let it happen! Otherwise, Mary would probably glare at me all the time or, worse, she could decide not to see me again. Or would she understand? Would she understand that I had to kill in order to survive? Would she be able to forgive me? The Hunger Games are a matter of life and death, after all.

Ah, I shouldn't think too much before the time! As a matter of fact, I might die in a couple of days. Well, I'd rather die being just a robber from District 6 than as a vicious killer. Besides, twelve-year-olds are usually too weak to compete. But this doesn't mean that I have to give up on my life, right? I'm a survivor, and I've got two allies who will help me in case of need, won't they?

I grab another knife, and throw it with one smooth movement of my wrist. I keep my eyes trained on it as its polished, silver blade lodges right in the neck of the human-shaped silhouette in front of me, producing a clean sound. _A lethal blow… _I silently remark before I can even realize it.

…...

_Bella Page (16)- District 7 female tribute_

_The Storyteller_

Three days of training have gone by in no time. It seems like yesterday that Cedric and I paraded in front of the whole Panem, wearing those wonderful costumes made of leaves. Definitely among the best chariot outfits District 7 has ever had. I hope they will gain some sponsors for us. Actually, our district has never been that lucky in terms of number of victors. The fact that Cedric and I are siblings may attract sponsors, but it's not enough. Tomorrow, our private sessions will take place. The higher score we get the better. Actually, we'll need all possible help once in the arena.

I approach the huge window of my bedroom, trying not to think of the imminent future. I don't want to think that Cedric and I will be sent to the arena, and that at least one of us won't make it out alive. Tears are now falling along my cheeks, but I immediately wipe them away. I look out of the window. Only glimpses of night sky are visible among the floodlit skyscrapers of Capitol City. I close my eyes. I pretend to be back home, in the middle of the forest, a starry sky above my head, the intense scent of pine trees in the air. When I eventually open my eyes, I'm back to the luxurious capital of Panem. I wonder about what it's like living here… I mean, living safely, knowing that your beloved ones will never end up in the Games...

My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a knock at my door. I wince. I'm too agitated.

"Are you still awake, sis?" asks my brother from behind the door.

"Come in, Cedric," I gently reply.

He enters the room, wearing a sky blue pyjama, and fluffy slippers shaped like a bunny. He looks a bit uneasy.

"What's up?" I ask him, worried.

"Could I sleep beside you tonight?" he asks almost under his breath.

I smile in response. "Of course."

He immediately flops down on my bed, slipping off his slippers, and covering himself with the blankets. I go sit on the bed right beside him.

"Another nightmare?" I ask him, putting my hand on his uncovered shoulder.

"No, I couldn't fall asleep, that's all," he answers.

"Would you like me to tell you a fairy tale?"

"No, thanks. No bedtime stories for me tonight."

"As you wish."

"But… have you cried?" he asks at some point, frowning.

I look away. "No… don't worry," I lie.

"Bella… I know you too well. Your eyes are normally green-brown, but they look greener when you cry," he rebuts, while getting up from his lying position.

I sigh. "I'm just… worried about tomorrow, worried…" - I sigh again- "…about the Games."

"Well, I'm worried too, if this makes you feel any better."

I smile, while caressing his hair. "You always have a way with words, little hero."

"Hey! I'm not little!" he protests.

I giggle in response. "Okay, okay, you're not little."

"But I'm still a hero. You can be a hero at all ages, right?"

I nod. That's what I told him before the Reaping. If only we hadn't both been reaped! If only someone had volunteer at least for Cedric! But there's no use in dwelling on the past, right? You cannot change the past, you can only try to improve the future. Cedric's life hasn't always been easy. He lost his family when he was only three. If our parents hadn't adopted him, he would have ended up in a community home, and I wouldn't have a great brother like him. I've felt the need to protect him from the very beginning, and things won't change in the arena. I'm going to do my best to make sure he survives. He deserves it more than many others. I know it's a selfish thought, but I'm not able to think otherwise. That's what the Games do to you in the end, they turn you into a selfish person, because when your life or that of your family is at stake, you're not able to think otherwise.

"You'll need to be strong, my hero," I say.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you, my princess," he replies.

"Hey, princesses can fight as well, if necessary!" I retort, my hands on my hips.

That said, we both burst out laughing.

* * *

**So, the last training day is over. As promised, every tribute had a POV before the Games. What do you think of this chapter?**

**My next update will be about the private sessions, and then I will go on with _Divine Punishment_.**

**Submitters ****can assign points to: Ambra (D3F), Christopher (D6M), Bella (D7F), Timothy (D10M), Owen (D13M)**

**Specific questions about tributes:**

**Ambra: will she manage to carry out her plan?**

**Christopher: do you think that his fears are well-founded?**

**Bella: what do you think of her attitude? **

**Timothy: what do you think of his proposal?**

**Owen: would you like a romance between Owen and Rebecca?**

**Final status of alliances:**

**\- Careers: Kyle (D1M), Excelsa (D1F), Victor (D2M), Scarlett (D2F), Oliver (D4M), Vivian (D4F)**

**\- Rebel alliance: Rebecca (D9F), Estrella (D10F), Owen (D13M), Christine (D13F)**

**\- The perfect trio: Henry (D3M), Ambra (D3F), Christopher (D6M)**

**\- I don't want to be a burden: Tartan (D8M), Autumn (D8F)**

**\- Underdogs: Tobias (D11M), Maya (D11F), Fabian (D12M)**

**\- Not so united: Cliff (D5M), Rhonda (D5F)**

**\- Lone men: Adam (D9M), Timothy (D10M)**

**\- Siblings: Cedric (D7M), Bella (D7F) **

**\- Loners: Alexa (D6F), Yolanda (D12F)**

**Thank you a lot for reading! Reviews are appreciated!**


	23. Private Sessions & Scores

**Hi, everyone! This chapter is a little bit longer than usual, because, in addition to the private sessions, there is also a part in which Gamemakers debate on the scores to assign. I've decided to add this part, because I don't want to give the impression that scores are given at random. Anyway, I've written this chapter only from the point of view of Gamemakers; therefore, ****submitters cannot assign points ****in this case (sorry). I hope you'll like this part, nonetheless.**

**Enjoy your reading :)**

* * *

_Fifth day in the Capitol_

_Oberon Baynes (54)- Gamemaker __*****_

I've got here before anyone else, even before Venus Smith, the new Head Gamemaker. I frown at the thought of her appointment. She has worked only three years as a Gamemaker, and now she has become the boss. Someone else has been gathering experience for years and years, but their merit is not recognized, though. But _c'est la vie_, I suppose… no point getting angry about that. Luck is like a wheel, it will turn also for you, sooner or later.

In the meantime, other Gamemakers have arrived. We will observe tributes' performances from a sort of inner balcony protected by a force field. For those who want, there's the possibility of watching tributes during training. I always do it. Someone thinks that I'm too zealous, but I don't care. I like having more clues to judge.

When Venus finally makes her appearance, everybody stands up to greet her. She's wearing a simple, long-sleeved, burgundy dress, and black ankle boots. Her hair is combed in a high bun with some curls coming out from it.

"Good morning. I hope you have all slept well, because we have a long day ahead of us. The private sessions… not exactly the most exciting part of our job, but the lives of our tributes may depend on our assessment, so I hope everybody will do their part," she says.

That said, she takes her seat, and we all imitate her.

"_Kyle Whiteswan, District 1!_" says a robotic voice.

The first tribute enters the gym, dressed in his training outfit. He bows to greet us, but, when his eyes meet those of Venus, he immediately blushes in a very evident manner. He looks rather surprised. On the other hand, Venus smiles in response. Do they know each other?

"Please, Kyle, show us what you can do," she encourages him.

Kyle!? We never address tributes by their first name! This suggests a certain amount of intimacy. Maybe Venus and the boy truly know each other. This fact might cloud her professional judgement. _Interesting…_

The boy tries the obstacle course with great agility, and completes it quickly. Then, he spars with a trainer, and eventually he manages to take his opponent down. His style seems more defensive than offensive, though. As the icing on the cake, he uses a sword to behead a couple of dummies.

"_Excelsa Serafin, District 1!_"

While a trainer is putting back the dummies' heads Mr. Whiteswan chopped off, his district partner begins her performance by sparring with another trainer. They also use batons while fighting. Her style is definitely more offensive than Kyles. When she's finished, she takes a dummy, a wire mesh, a rope, a machete, and a spear from the respective stations, and then moves to the camouflage station. Here, there are some fake trees. She uses the rope to attach the mesh to the crown of a tree, then ties the rest to another tree, making sure it's in tension.

"Sometimes, you don't need to come into the light to defeat your opponents, you could lure them into a trap," she explains.

That said, she places the dummy under the tree, then cuts the rope with her machete. As a consequence, the mesh falls on the dummy, trapping it. She eventually uses her spear to hit it.

A remarkable performance… a little complex, but remarkable.

"_Victor Blade, District 2!_"

The performance of the male tribute of District 2 is not particularly impressing. He basically limits himself to use a sword to cut off parts of dummies… and he does it with such a fury! A good fighter but not a great thinker, I suppose.

"_Scarlett Pearce, District 2!_"

The girl from Two makes her performance more varied compared to her district partner… in terms of weapon choices, at least. First of all, she heads to the knife station. She starts throwing knives, but from different positions- more closely, from further way, standing, crouching, even while moving. In any case, she proves to have a good aim. Secondly, she tries the javelin station.

"_Henry Almonds, District 3!_"

Some Gamemakers have already started to get distracted, but not me, and neither Venus. I keep my eyes fixed on the boy from Three, as he's heading to the plant identification station.

"Nature is tricky," he starts explaining, looking in the general direction of us Gamemakers. Then, he resumes his speech: "As a matter of fact, many poisonous plants are similar to edible ones. Take for example nightlock. It is not that different from common blueberries, is it?"

That said, he puts on plastic gloves, then takes some nightlock berries with his left hand, and then some blueberries with his right one, so that we're able to make a comparison. There isn't much difference, indeed.

"Nightlock berries are slightly darker than blueberries. However, if someone doesn't know it, they might make a fatal error."

The boy puts both berries on the same plate, then he mixes them. Eventually, he shows us the plate.

"Tell me… can you distinguish the poisonous berries from the edible ones, now? I bet you can't. Food theft is not an uncommon occurrence in the arena. If a tribute notices that someone is stealing from their supplies, this trick with the berries could come in handy, don't you think?"

_Definitely yes._

"_Ambra Clares, District 3!_"

A mediocre performance. The girl tries to obstacle course like the boy from One, but it is evident that she lacks both agility and training. After that, she starts a fire, trying to set it as small as possible, but in vain. If she was in the arena at night, that fire would make her position dangerously visible.

"_Oliver Litore, District 4!_"

A little less mediocre than his predecessor. The boy of District 4 ties different kinds of knot, including the slipknot, essential for hanging a person. Then, he moves to the spear station. His aim could be better, but he's not completely hopeless. Let's say that he's average.

"_Vivian Tide, District 4!_"

When the girl makes her appearance, she's flaunting a winning smile. She immediately bows.

"Good morning, dear Gamemakers," she greets us with a sweet voice.

_Oh, please, don't tell me that she wants to impress us with a mellifluous speech!_

"I have a request: may I use the swimming pool for my performance?" she goes on.

"Of course you may. There are cameras also over there, and even underwater. We'll be able to observe you even by staying here," replies Venus.

"Excellent."

There is indeed a swimming pool in a room adjoining the gym.

First of all, the girl grabs a couple of spears, and takes them over there. Then, she does the same with some dummies. Eventually, she throws the dummies in the swimming pool, letting them sink in water.

"I don't know if in the arena there's a sea or a lake, but one thing is certain: there will be at least one water source. A death by dehydration is not pretty to see, after all. Anyway, one might need to fight in water," she says, and then jumps in the swimming pool.

She takes one spear from the poolside and dives. We are all curious to know what she intends to do. Thanks to the underwater cameras, we can see that the girl is using her spear to hit the dummies. She even throws it, and manages to hit her target despite the fact that it's underwater. That's really impressing. She has been able to draw the attention of every Gamemaker- which is an undertaking per se- with an original performance. She uses the spears several times. When she's finished, she gets out of the pool, and comes back to the gym, dripping wet. She's slightly shivering.

"You may go, Mrs. Tide. Thank you," says Venus.

Vivian bows in response. "Thank you for your time."

"You'd better put on some dry clothes. We don't want a capable tribute like you to get sick," I add.

"_Cliff Wells, District 5!_"

After the amazing performance of the female tribute of Four, I don't expect to witness any other interesting exhibition. Besides, all the Careers have already completed their sessions. However, there are still lots of tributes to assess, so, when the boy of District 5 enters the gym, I try to keep focused. But his performance is really mediocre: he tries the sword station, but swords are definitely not his strong point. You can tell it by the way he wields them that he's rather uncomfortable. He has to hold them with two hands, otherwise he risks losing hold. He's not strong enough for such a weapon, that's for sure.

"_Rhonda Hope, District 5!_"

The girl from Five is even weaker than her district partner. She tries the climbing garden, but, when she's almost got to the top, she slips and fall. Luckily, she's strapped into a harness, so she's protected. But there will be no harnesses in the arena. If she fell from that height there, she would probably die. Anyway, a trainer helps the girl to free herself. She's definitely embarrassed, her face as red as a tomato. I think she's about to cry. Actually, she runs away from the room before her session is over. I feel a bit sorry for her, but Gamemakers can assess only what they are shown.

"_Christopher Terranova, District 6!__"_

The boy enters the gym with an amused expression on his face. Looks like he's doing something he finds pleasant like having a walk, and not that he's about to show us what he can do. I don't like his attitude. To be sincere, I think that private sessions should be taken seriously. It's a matter of life and death, after all. Anyway, the boy heads to the knife station. He starts throwing knives with dexterity and precision. Not bad for a young boy from District 6. He also juggles. Some Gamemakers chuckle, but not me, I don't find it funny at all. Yes, this boy is capable, but his attitude may penalize him.

"_Alexa Steel, District 6!_"

The girl from Six asks immediately to spar with a male trainer. Her style is definitely aggressive… and also violent, I'd say. Actually, she kicks and punches without much thought. At some point, she knocks down her opponent by punching him right in the face.

At this stage, Venus stands up. "Such violence is pointless here. Save it for the arena!" she remarks, clearly annoyed.

"Staying here is a waste of time, then," replies the girl, while heading to the exit.

"It's not you who decides when you're allowed to leave!" shouts Venus, but Alexa doesn't listen to her.

When the girl is gone, Venus sits down again. "Let's move to the next tribute!" she says, her voice full of indignation.

"_Cedric Page, District 7!_"

The boy from Seven focuses on setting snares and making fishhooks. I must admit that he has noteworthy manual skills, but, since he doesn't try any weapon, I assume that he's not a great fighter. What he shows us is not sufficient to guarantee his survival in the arena.

"_Bella Page, District 7!_"

The performance of the girl from Seven is slightly better than her brother's, but not that much to deserve a high score. She tries the plant identification station, and completes the exercise in no time. Secondly, she starts a fire. Last thing, she ties some knots. All survival skills, but survival skills are just half of what is required to win.

Neither of the tributes of District 7 used axes in their exhibitions, which is really disappointing. They're not lumberjacks, then. It's a pity. Normally, the tributes of the lumber district prove to be physically strong, people on whom sponsors are willing to invest. They rarely win, but they stand a chance, at least.

"_Tartan Dye, District 8!_"

The boy heads immediately to the camouflage station, he doesn't even stop to greet us. Not a good beginning. He looks quite nervous, though. From the way he's working, I can tell that he's familiar with using paint. He's painting his arm to make it look like a rock. He adds also some touches of green, so that it seems there's some moss on it. When he's finished, he pops his arm on a rock, showing us how it blends with it. His camouflage works, no doubt about it. For the rest of his session, the boy sets basic snares. Eventually, he leaves the room as silently as he entered it.

"_Autumn Peachskin, District 8!_"

The girl from Eight greets us with a deep bow. All Gamemakers are now watching her with interest. She's a victor's child, after all. In addition, she's very pretty. Having a good-looking victor like her would please everybody. Anyway, the girl asks to spar with a female trainer. She doesn't seem particularly gifted for fighting, though. In fact, she basically limits herself to dodge, without counterattacking in an effective way. She's almost up against the wall now… in the literal sense. At this stage, the trainer makes, however, a faux pas: she shifts her weight from the back to the front, ready to make the decisive attack, but the girl gets quickly out of her way. As a consequence, the trainer finds herself facing the wall. The girl takes advantage of this, and immobilizes her opponent by holding her arms behind her back.

"Sometimes, you need to deceive your opponent in order to win. If you condition them by making them believe you're weak, they're more likely to feel superior, and consequently make mistakes," she explains, eventually.

"Well done, Miss Peachskin. You may go now," replies Venus.

"_Adam Thorn, District 9!_"

The boy of District 9 crosses the gym, heading to the archery station. He looks at us just for a moment and nods, then he begins the exercise. He has good aim, despite the fact that it's evident he had never used bow and arrow before the Games. Secondly, he tries the climbing garden. He proves to be agile and strong… someone who can compete with the Careers. Finally!

"_Rebecca Field, District 9!_"

The girl heads to the plant identification station. She puts on plastic gloves, and then uses mortar and pestle to squeeze the juice out of some nightlock berries. When she's finished, she moves to the camouflage station, taking the mortar with her. She grabs also a blowgun, some darts, and a dummy from other stations. Then, she makes a cap with leaves and branches. Eventually, she places the dummy in front of a bush, dips two darts in the nightlock juice, and goes hide in the bush, wearing her cap and taking the blowgun with her. She shoots blow darts at the dummy. They lodge respectively in its neck and forearm.

"The smaller the weapon the deadlier. As a matter of fact, nightlock is lethal even in small quantity," she points out.

The tributes of District 9 have both been a surprise. These Games are becoming increasingly interesting. I'm looking forward to seeing what tributes will do in the arena.

"_Timothy Cunningham, District 10!_"

The boy from Ten tries the axe station. Axes? Better late than never! He swings his weapon, and chops off parts of dummies. He seems pretty confident. Secondly, he asks to spar with a trainer. He's not used to fighting, but he's proving himself. Another strong tribute with an offensive style.

"_Estrella Sol, District 10!_"

The performance of the girl rom Ten is not as good as that of her district partner. Honestly, I find it mediocre. She basically limits herself to start a fire, then she makes some fishhooks. Her performance makes me wonder. I mean… what do some tributes think, when they decide what to show during their private sessions? Do they really think they will attract sponsors, if they show only mediocre skills? They have three training days available, they could come up with something more decent, couldn't they?

"_Tobias Jackson, District 11!_"

The boy of District 11 tries first the plant identification station. He has no problem completing the exercise. Then, he shows us his skill in climbing. He's clearly accustomed to this kind of activity, because he's very agile. Luckily, he doesn't fall like the girl from Five. That's decent!

"_Maya Seeds, District 11!_"

The little girl heads to the plant identification station as her district partner did, but she doesn't do the exercise. Instead, she takes some fruits at random, and puts them on a plate. After that, she takes the plate to the camouflage station. She uses paint to make her skin appear lighter, so that its colour is more similar to the grey-brown of the trees' barks. As for the texture… well, she could work more on that. Actually, she hasn't been able to reproduce the exact pattern of the bark. But what does she want to do with the plate?

"Stealth is a useful thing in the arena. If you don't find any food yourself, you might need to steal it from another tribute. Camouflage could help you approach without being seen," she shyly explains.

"But it could be a fatal mistake… I mean, stealing food without knowing what it is. You put some fruits on that plate as an example, I suppose, but you chose them at random, right? What if you were in the arena, and the fruits you stole were poisonous?" I retort.

"Well… I… I … I-I'll pay attention in the arena," she stammers in response.

"Maybe you should have tried the plant identification station. At least, it would have given the impression that you're prepared."

"Okay, I think that's enough. Thank you, Miss Seeds," Venus chimes in.

In response, the girl leaves the room, head down.

"There's no need to rage on a little girl," says Venus, addressing me.

"I'm just doing my job. Tributes should know that their lives are at stake, they cannot take it lightly. I'm pretty sure she will be more careful in the future… _if _there is a future for her," I rebut.

The Head Gamemaker shakes her head in disapproval. "Next tribute, please!"

"_Fabian Swift, District 12!_"

"I'd like to try the Arena Simulator, if possible," says the boy, as soon as he sets foot in the room.

"Sure," replies Venus.

The boy selects the necessary conditions from the computer menu. "I'll set a random choice for the arena, since we cannot know in what kind of arena we'll end up before the time," he says.

_Good point._

A trainer helps the boy wear the seatbelts and the VR headset. The simulation can start. We can see what happens in there thanks to a computer that projects images into the force field surrounding us. It's the same mechanism that enables us to project the faces of the fallen tributes in the arena. Anyway, the boy of District 12 has just entered the virtual arena- the simulator has selected the swamp of the 97th Hunger Games. It's a bloodbath situation. When the countdown ends, the boy jumps off his pedestal, and goes grab a backpack with a scythe leaning on it. The backpack he grabs is located halfway between his pedestal and the golden cornucopia, so it's a risky choice, if not the most dangerous possible. To make the simulation more realistic, some virtual tributes fight against each other, but much of them will focus on the boy sooner or later. For his part, he swings the scythe, and immediately kills two tributes who were approaching him. His combat tactic is rather basic- he just waits for his opponents to get close, and then attacks- but it seems to work. Sometimes, the easiest the strategy the better. However, he's eventually killed. He has ranked fifth out of twenty-six. Not bad.

"_Yolanda Underwood, District 12!_"

The girl goes fetch a knife, and then heads to the camouflage station. She breaks a branch of one of the fake trees, and starts honing one of its tops with the knife.

"In the arena, you might not be able to get your hands on a real weapon. Therefore, you could need to make your weapons yourself," she explains, while working.

When she's finished, she uses her makeshift spear to hit a dummy.

The exhibitions of the tributes form Twelve were both good… and this against all odds. To be sincere, we don't usually expect a lot from District 12, even though we keep stabs on it more than we used to do before the second rebellion.

"_Owen Coin, District 13!__"_

_Speaking of the second rebellion…_

I can feel a certain tension in the room now. The male tribute of District 13 is a Coin, after all. Even though he wasn't even born when the rebellion took place, we cannot let him win the Games due to what he represents. If he won, his victory would show the districts that Capitol City is weak, and that another uprising is possible. We cannot let that happen! We have, however, to assess also his performance, no matter if it's all a farce.

"I assume you are all fed up with watching tributes perform. Maybe you'll appreciate a different kind of exhibition," says the boy, his cold, light grey eyes scanning us as if he wanted to kill us with just a look.

"Depends on the exhibition," replies Venus.

"What about an exhibition of oratory?" he continues.

Some Gamemakers start murmuring in response.

"We're not here to waste time on words, Mr. Coin. If you show us skills that are useful in the arena- and words aren't- we'll be glad to give you a score as we'll do for all your fellow tributes. No need to say that a high score could guarantee your survival."

He bursts out laughing. "Survival!? Why do you keep on trifling with me, Madam Head Gamemaker? We all know that I won't survive… or, rather, that _you _won't make me survive. In fact, you would have me killed right now, if only you could, am I wrong?"

Venus smirks in response. "You're not wrong, indeed. But you could try to die with dignity, at least."

"Dignity… a strong word that you use to hide what you really mean, namely submission to your cruel rules. You need to keep up appearances, don't you? If an insignificant girl from District 12 could light up Panem with just a bunch of berries, what would happen if a Coin won your Games?"

At this point, Venus stands up. "That's enough. Your session is over," she says, articulating every syllable. She tries to sound calm and self-controlled, but her voice is vibrating with anger.

"I've just spoken my mind. That's what "die with dignity" means for me," states the boy, before leaving the room with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

"_Christine Harsh, District 13!_"

We all breathe a sigh of relief, when the last tribute walks into the gym. We all hope she won't cause trouble like her district partner did. Luckily, our hopes are fulfilled. The girl takes a knife and a dummy, then she heads to the camouflage station. First of all, she places the dummy so that it turns its back on a bush. Secondly, she paints her face. After that, she goes hide in the bush with the knife between her teeth. To conclude, she jumps out of the bush, and takes down the dummy, pretending to cut its throat with her knife.

…...

_Venus Smith (26)- Head Gamemaker_

The private sessions are finally over. Now, we just need to assign scores. My head aches, though. This part of the Games is always stressing. I start massaging my temples, trying to ease the pain. Someone offers a glass of red wine to me, but I reject it with a gentle gesture of my hand. I must keep a clear head. As the Head Gamemaker, beginning the discussion is up to me.

I take the word by clearing my throat: "Ahem… I think we may start. The sooner we start the better, don't you think? The first tribute to assess is Kyle Whiteswan from District 1. I think he deserves a 10."

Oberon Baynes chuckles in response. "A 10!? Looks like his wonderful, violet eyes have breached in the heart of our Head Gamemaker too!" he comments, amused.

Other Gamemakers chuckle as well.

"What do you mean, Mr. Baynes? The boy from One proved himself, I think," I reply.

"Yes, but he showed us only combat skills, completely ignoring the survival stations. He's a Career, but this doesn't mean that he won't need to think of his survival in the arena," he points out.

"Let's give him a 9, then," I offer.

"8."

"8!?"

I look at the other Gamemakers, but they all seem to agree with Oberon, so I have to give up. _I'm sorry, Kyle._

"Next tribute: Excelsa Serafin," I say.

"Her performance was more… let's say… complete than her partner's. _She _deserves a 9," comments Oberon.

"Definitely yes," says Cassiopeia with a nod.

There's not much to say also regarding the tributes of District 2: the boy focused exclusively on swords, so he cannot get more than a 7; on the other hand, the girl was more skilled, that's why we'll assign an 8 to her.

"What about Henry Almonds from Three?" asks Oberon.

"His performance was interesting. He said things we already know, but the strategy of mixing edible food with poisonous plants could actually work. 7 is the right score, in my opinion. As for his district partner, she cannot score that high. Her exhibition wasn't satisfying at all, she deserves no more than a 4," I answer.

"I agree with you this time."

Now, it's the turn of District 4. We all found the exhibition of the boy average, so he'll get a 6. As for the girl, Oberon immediately proposes an 11.

"11!?" I reply, unbelieving. "The last tribute who…"

"We all remember the last tribute who scored that high. I don't think, however, that Miss Tide will become the new Mockingjay. Her performance was one of the most impressing that I've ever seen in years of experience. We should really reward her talent," he rebuts, interrupting me.

"An 11 would bring about conflicts within the Career pack," I go on.

"That's what the audience wants to see, in the end. Tributes aren't sent to the arena to make friends!" he retorts.

"He's right. Let's give her an 11, and we'll see how things develop. The tribute with the highest score doesn't necessarily win, after all. If she makes a faux pas, we'll manage to get rid of her," Argon chimes in.

"Okay, so be it," I reply with a sigh.

We go over the next three tributes with ease: Cliff Wells was pathetic with that sword, so he'll get a 4; Rhonda Hope didn't even complete her session, I'm sorry for her, but 3 is the highest score we can assign her; Christopher Terranova could get a 7, but Oberon is right about his attitude, he took it too lightly, that's why 6 will be his score.

It's the turn of the girl from Six. I know I'm supposed to give a professional judgment, but she really got on my nerves!

"Before you can say anything, let me highlight that she was rude and disrespectful. However, she showed us her combat skills, which will be helpful in the arena. Therefore, I believe that we should give her at least a 5," remarks Oberon.

"I'm fine with it," I reply, looking forward to dismissing the subject.

Then, we move to District 7. The siblings' performances were nothing special. The boy will get a 5, whereas the girl a 6.

District 8. The boy was good at camouflage, it's clear that he knows his stuff, so he'll be assigned a 6. His district partner was even better than him. She pretended not to be able to fight; as a consequence, her opponent underestimated her, but it was a mistake. She deserves a 7.

District 9. The couple from Nine was excellent. The boy could actually pose a threat, if he manages to get his hands on a bow. 8 will be his score. On the other hand, the girl skilfully combined camouflage with a poisonous weapon. She definitely deserves a 9.

District 10. There's a huge gap between its tributes. The boy was very good, so he'll get an 8. But the girl was mediocre, so she can get no more than a 4.

District 11. Nothing special like District 7, not that we expected a lot from two of the youngest tributes. The boy showed average skills. He can climb and sort plants, so he'll be assigned a 6. His partner was worse than him. She tried the camouflage station, but with poor results. Besides, Oberon's comments put her on the spot. 5 will be her score.

District 12. Good performances, no doubt about that. I found the choice of using the Arena Simulator smart, and the boy proved himself in there, so he'll get a 7. As for the girl, she'll get a 7 as well. Makeshift weapons may be as deadly as real ones. I don't think, however, that she'll make it far in the arena. Apparently, she has asthma, and her mentor had begged a lot before the girl had the permission to take her inhaler in the arena.

District 13. Sore point.

"Which score to assign the boy?" asks Oberon.

"The lowest possible: 1," I promptly answer.

He nods in response. "Okay. What about the girl?"

"I liked her exhibition. It was kind of similar to that of Miss Field, so what about a 9?" proposes Cassiopeia.

"I would normally agree with you, if the girl didn't come from District 13," he replies.

"Her origins aren't relevant here. As a matter of fact, Thirteen had five victors in the past, the last one in the 92nd Hunger Games, not many years ago," she retorts.

"We all know what happened at the Reaping…"

"Mr. Baynes, if you know something we ignore, please enlight us," I chime in, interrupting him.

"I found out something, indeed," he admits.

That said, he takes his tablet. "I'm going to show you a conversation that took place immediately after the chariot parade… between Mr. Coin and his district partner," he explains.

He starts the video in question.

_"The only touch of colour was that wonderful mural on the Justice Building," _says the boy.

_"Thank you,"_ replies the girl.

_"It was you?"_

There's a pause.

_"Christine… it was really you?" _he insists.

_"It's not important." _

_"It is important, instead. If it was you, I must compliment you on your courage. Our district seemed reborn thanks to that mural."_

_"We shouldn't think of that mural now, we should think of a strategy for the Games." _

_"If that's what you want to speak of…"_

_"Okay, okay, it was me. I just wanted to show them that their pretence that everything is alright doesn't fool anyone." _

"A seditious dialogue," I comment, as soon as Oberon stops the video.

"That girl needs a lesson!" adds Argon.

"All in due time," says Oberon.

"Yes, she does need a lesson and not a reward. But a high score is not necessarily a reward, it could be a way of making a target of her instead. A 9 is too much in my opinion, but an 8 will do. What do you think?" I point out.

Oberon smirks in response. "I think we all agree with you, Madam Head Gamemaker."

* * *

**SCORES:**

**Kyle Whiteswan, D1M: 8**

**Excelsa Serafin, D1F: 9**

**Victor Blade, D2M: 7**

**Scarlett Pearce, D2F: 8**

**Henry Almonds, D3M: 7**

**Ambra Clares, D3F: 4**

**Oliver Litore, D4M: 6**

**Vivian Tide, D4F: 11**

**Cliff Wells, D5M: 4**

**Rhonda Hope, D5F: 3**

**Christopher Terranova, D6M: 6**

**Alexa Steel, D6F: 5**

**Cedric Page, D7M: 5**

**Bella Page, D7F: 6**

**Tartan Dye, D8M: 6**

**Autumn Peachskin, D8F: 7**

**Adam Thorn, D9M: 8**

**Rebecca Field, D9F: 9**

**Timothy Cunningham, D10M: 8**

**Estrella Sol, D10F: 4**

**Tobias Jackson, D11M: 6**

**Maya Seeds, D11F: 5**

**Fabian Swift, D12M: 7**

**Yolanda Underwood, D12F: 7**

**Owen Coin, D13M: 1**

**Christine Harsh, D13F: 8**

**Do you agree with the scores? Honestly, I tried to be as neutral as possible, and to assign scores according to the tributes' skills and not out of sympathy, but it wasn't easy. **

**Thank you a lot for reading, I know this chapter was heavier than the previous ones. I didn't provide specific questions about tributes here, but If you want to post your general comments on this chapter or on specific parts, I'll be glad to hear from you.**

**Thank you for your support. Have a nice day :)**

* * *

***This character was introduced in ****_Divine Punishment _****chapter 3 (Nepotism)**


	24. Sponsors: He Who Seeks Finds

**Hi, everyone! As promised, in this chapter I'll introduce the remaining sponsors, submitted respectively by ****_CryingWithTheWolves _****and ****_santiagoponcini20_****. If you want, you can still submit sponsors. Actually, I intend to write some chapters about them also when tributes will be in the arena, but, for the moment, this one will mainly revolve around training scores, which you can find in the previous chapter.**

**Enjoy your reading :)**

* * *

_Fifth day in the Capitol_

_Gemini Webb (20)- Mentor of District 8_

I'm sitting at the lounge bar, waiting for my drink. 6 and 7… not bad scores after all, but I expected more from Autumn. The fact that her father is a victor is not enough to guarantee her survival in the arena. The audience will be watching her, but, on the other hand, her popularity could make her a target. Little Tartan surprised, instead. I mean, Denim got only a 3 last year, and he managed to double his brother's score! Maybe I've underestimated him. Honestly, I'm wondering whether I've been really betting on the winning horse so far.

My drink is served, but, before I can reach for the glass, someone else grabs it, and drinks its content. I turn around. It's a woman- tall, muscled physique, tanned skin, violet irises with a magenta outline, waist-long hair combed in a sole braid, dark clothes that seem to be made of top-quality leather. She finishes drinking, then turns to me with a disappointed expression on her pretty face.

"Whisky cream with chocolate and ice!? Really? You're no longer a child, Gemini," she says, while shaking her head.

"Miss Delphie Coney, it's a pleasure seeing you again," I reply, kissing her hand.

"You'll need more than some fake pleasantries to get my support," she points out with a straight face.

"And yet you're here," I retort, smirking.

"Your tributes seem to have a potential. I hope I'm not wrong about them… not that they can be worse than the couple of last year. Two bloodbaths, what a pain!"

Her comment doesn't catch me off guard, I knew she would refer to what happened last year. Delphie Coney is precisely the kind of person who finds it rewarding to highlight others' deficiencies. She's arrogant and cold-hearted… not that one can expect something else from the heir of a wealthy family of the Capitol. The Coneys are immensely rich, even by the standards of this city. They're famous for being successful businesspeople, especially in the field of hotel trade. I'm pretty sure Delphie sponsors tributes just to maintain her public image, but every mentor would do anything in order to get her support, given that she has no cash-flow problems. Does it mean, however, that I should endure in silence all her nasty comments? Of course not.

"This hotel must be a pain to you, Miss Coney. I've heard that your father wants to buy it, but Mr. Rainbow seems to be adamant. Is this fact that makes you so sullen?"

In response, she glares at me. For a moment, an expression of pure hatred distorts the perfect features of her face, showing the rot of her soul underneath her physical beauty… but she quickly composes herself. She approaches me, grabs my chin, and watches me right in the eye.

"You're playing with fire, Gemini. I cannot touch you, 'cause you're a victor, but when your tributes will be in the arena, desperately looking for supplies, you'll come to ask for my help on your knees," she says, squinting.

I smirk in response. "You know I won't do that. I'm not one of the lapdogs who usually surround you, and you secretly like it, don't you? I'm the only one who dares to face you, after all. Your life would be boring without me."

"Your tributes won't survive a week in the arena, you have my word!" she replies, even angrier than before.

"That's where you're wrong, my dear. Whether they survive or not, these Games won't change my life. I don't care a jot for your word," I rebut with a shrug.

Delphie releases her grip on my chin. "Poor District 8! What a selfish mentor it has!" she comments.

That said, she walks away, making her high heels tick on the checkboard-tiled floor.

"When you want to insult me again, you know where to find me!" I say, and then order another drink.

…...

_Rod Mooncrate (19)- Mentor of District 11_

I'm watching Gemini Webb- the mentor of District 8. _Oh, man! What's the hell are you doing? You've got a sponsor, and you send her away!? _If Delphie Coney deigned to look at me, I would never send her away, no matter how much superior she feels. Yet, here I am, sitting alone on a black sofa. In hand, the drink number… well, I lost count.

At some point, Selena Wellington- the mentor of District 10- makes her appearance, her silhouette enclosed in a breath-taking, black dress. She goes straight to the lounge bar, orders a drink, and eventually sits next to me, without asking for my permission… not that I care.

"You look sexy today," I say.

"Is that a pickup line?" she replies.

"You must be tired of older men."

She smirks in response, then gets closer to me. "You're not my type, Rod."

During her Games, Selena had an affair with both her district partner and the Career boy of District 2. Actually, she betrayed her partner and even killed him in order to ally with the Career. Eventually, also the boy from Two died by her hand. That's why Selena has earned the reputation of being a frivolous girl. Someone has even nicknamed her "black widow" to describe her strategy in the arena, because she first mated and then killed her partners.

"I was just joking, of course," I say with a smile.

"You should think of your team instead of joking. Have you found a sponsor?" she asks me.

I sigh, taking another sip of my drink. "Next question?"

"Rod…"

"No one would ever want to sponsor my tributes… not the couple of this year, at least."

"5 and 6 are not bad scores, in the end. I mean… my girl got only a 4, that's a hopeless case, don't you think?"

"But your boy got an 8. You've got something to work on!" I retort.

"You've already given up, then," she points out.

"That's the best thing to do. Wishful thinking is useless," I explain.

"He who seeks finds, Rod, remember that… he who seeks finds."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think you would have liked it, if your mentor had given up on your life. But maybe you didn't want to win the Hunger Games, not after the horrors you had seen in the arena, right? You're here, pretending to be a nonchalant mentor, but, deeper down, the Games have left more scars on you than on many others, am I wrong?"

"The Games have destroyed the lives of _everybody_ in here. Everyone has just their own way of coping with the aftermath," I reply.

"And yours consists of letting your tributes fend for themselves?"

In response, I put my drink on the table, annoyed. "Selena, we're good friends, you don't want to ruin our friendship just for a silly discussion on sponsors, do you?"

"No, I don't," she admits.

"Very well," I reply with a sigh. "I think I'll go out for a smoke."

"I'll come with you, if you don't mind."

"Okay. I know that getting rid of you is practically impossible," I reply with a slight smile.

She smirks in response, and then follows me, leaving her drink on the table as well. "You know me too well."

Once in the hall, we see the Career mentors entering the hotel- Jay Grayfogg, Hippolyta Arrowhead, and Thalas Marsh. Why do Careers… yeah… travel in packs even outside the arena? It's creepy. It gives the impression that they want to kill you even if they must not. Anyway, none of us say a word, just Hippolyta glares at Selena, but the latter ignores her. She must be still angry for what happened to her male tribute in the arena. Well, I'm on Selena's side in this case. As a matter of fact, Careers often come up with crueler strategies than hers.

"Why do you care about my tributes? They're not allied with yours for what I know," I enquire, as soon as the Careers are out of reach.

"You said it, Rod, we're friends. If friends are not there when you need them, what else do we have left in this life?"

…...

_Hippolyta Arrowhead (28)- Mentor of District 2_

Every time I come to this hotel, I meet that bitch of Selena Wellington. Why? Why me? I mean… District 2 has three mentors. We won three years in a row- I, Julius, and Kaya. Yeah, Julius didn't come this year due to his sick son, but Kaya and I could switch roles: I could work directly with our tributes, while she could deal with sponsors. Yes, I know that I'm better with sponsors than her, and yet… if only I could just fire one of my arrows into Selena's chest! Her presence constantly reminds me of how she ruined one of the best tributes District 2 had in years, a boy whom I had personally suggested to trainers as the chosen tribute. He was only seventeen, but was really capable. Hell! Age doesn't matter that much! I was sixteen when I won. I was the youngest in the Career pack, and yet I emerged as the winner, even though my ex-allies had turned against me.

"You okay, Hippolyta?" Thalas asks me, interrupting my thoughts.

"Yep… I was just thinking," I answer.

"Not about the black widow, I hope."

"I've got better things to do. A sponsor wants to speak to me."

"Great! Who?"

"Someone called Saint Ariel Storm. I've never seen him before, he just sent me a note with his name and the number of a niche. Do you know him?" I reply.

"I do," Jay chimes in. "I spoke to him. He's straightforward, so no mince words with him."

"Excellent. My favourite type of sponsor," I point out with a smirk.

I head straight to the appointed niche, and enter it. It is all coloured in a delicate shade of sea green. Saint Ariel Storm is already here. At first sight, he looks like a black cat- dyed-black skin, blue eyes, skinny, not very tall... there are only whiskers and tail missing. His hair are bottle green and short-cropped. Despite being a Capitolite, the dark clothes he's wearing are not flamboyant… they're rather casual, actually.

"How do you do," he greets me with a smile, but keeps a certain distance between us.

He's not the expansive type, then. Apparently, he wants to keep this meeting on a level of formality and professionality. I'll roll with it. I don't mind a bit of formality, after all. We're not here to make friends, we're here to seal the fates of tributes.

"How do you do, Mr. Storm," I greet back.

We take our seats.

"I'm glad you're interested in my tributes. As you can see from their scores, they have a potential," I go on.

"To be sincere, I'm interested in only _one _of your tributes. I tend to prefer District 1 over District 2. They're both Career districts, but One meets better the tastes of Capitol City. As a matter of fact, its tributes are usually the most fashionable… and the couple of this year is not an exception," he rebuts.

Jay was right: this sponsor is really straightforward, and at the risk of sounding blunt.

"Which tribute are you interested in?" I ask him, eager to divert his attention from his pointless preference for District 1… I mean, what's the point of being fashionable in the arena?

"Victor Blade. His score may be lower than his partner's, but he has made a better impression on me," he answers.

I bite my lip. Victor… should I tell the sponsor that the academy selected another boy? Victor was not the chosen tribute, and yet he's representing District 2 in this year's Games. No, I shouldn't tell him that. Actually, training tributes before the Games is theoretically forbidden, so any reference to the academy is to be avoided. There are academies in One, Two, and Four just because the Capitol is willing to turn a blind eye, since Career districts are more loyal than the others.

"Okay," I reply.

"What are his skills?"

"Well, he's capable, especially with weapons. He has a preference for swords."

"What about long-range weapons?"

"According to my fellow mentor, he hasn't even tried them during training."

"Guess he prefers close combat, then. Umm… yes, we can work on that. The Career pack will need someone like him, especially in the bloodbath. But I think we'll come up with a sponsorship strategy after the bloodbath. I want to see how he behaves in the arena first," he replies.

"Makes sense."

* * *

**So, all the sponsors have been introduced. If you want to submit others, you can, otherwise I'll go on with those I have. In any case, the form is on my profile. Below, you can find some questions about mentors that you can answer in your reviews. Thanks :)**

**Hippolyta: what do you think of this character?**

**Gemini: what do you think of his attitude?**

**Rod: should he really give up on his tributes?**

**Submitters can assign points to: Victor (D2M), Scarlett (D2F), Tartan (D8M), Autumn (D8F), Tobias (D11M), Maya (D11F)**

**Thank you a lot for reading. Have a nice day!**


	25. Interview with the Tributes-Part1

**Hi, everyone! I apologize for updating later than I intended, but I've been quite busy recently. Actually, my first intention was to write a chapter that comprised all the interviews, but then I realized it would be too long and heavy to read, so you'll find the first thirteen tributes here (from D1F to D7F), and the rest in the following chapter. In both chapters, the point of view is that of the Master of Ceremonies- Cinnamon Nicewarble- therefore, submitters cannot assign points.  **

**Author's note: since I've got some exams in June, I will probably update less frequently than usual. **

**Enjoy your reading :) **

* * *

_The evening before the Games_

_Cinnamon Nicewarble (47)- Master of Ceremonies_

A cheering crowd welcomes me onstage, a sea of colours and glitter. How much I love this city! I savour this moment of glory… but just for a moment. The scene will be soon stolen by our tributes… legitimately, after all. I'm not the one who will be sent to the arena tomorrow.

"Good evening, Capitol City! Welcome to our fantastic pre-show _Interview with the Tributes_!" I say with a wide smile.

In response, the crowd erupts into enthusiastic applause. I give proof of the power I have over them when I manage to silence the crowd with just one gesture of my hand. Nothing surprising after all these years of experience, but still rewarding.

"You already know their names, but so far they have been a bit slippery, don't you think? Like unreachable celebrities. Well… now is the time to get to know them better, and maybe we'll find out some skeletons in their closets. So, without further ado, let's call the first tribute onstage: Miss Excelsa Serafin from District 1!" I go on.

The crowd starts cheering like crazy as soon as the girl makes her appearance. I don't blame them, her dress is breath-taking- long, dark blue, skin-tight, sleeveless, sweetheart neckline. Its fabric seems to be made of rose petals. In addition, it is studded with several diamonds. On the whole, the girl looks like she's wearing a starry sky.

"Oh, dear! Someone will certainly get a heart attack after seeing you!" I comment, while helping her to sit down.

"I hope not, Cinnamon. Capitolites are not on my blacklist," she replies with a smile.

"You've got a blacklist, then."

"Of course."

"And who's on that list?" I ask her.

"Well, I don't want to anticipate too much, all I can say is that Careers will have interesting competitors this year. Some tributes scored high despite coming from outer districts… let's take the couple of District 9 or the girl from Thirteen for example. But training days and arena days are two different things. The arena is the actual trial by fire of tributes, it's the arena that determines who's the best," she answers.

"And you think you're the best, I suppose."

She smirks in response. "I've been training all my life for this, even more that Careers usually do. As a matter of fact, you have normally to divide your time between training and school, but I had not, I've focused exclusively on training. I'm prepared for any kind of challenge Gamemakers could throw in my path."

A buzzer sounds, signalling that Excelsa's interview is over. We both stand up, and shake hands.

"Unfortunately, we ran out of time. I wish you good luck, Excelsa," I say.

"Thank you."

"Let's move to the next tribute, then. Honestly, I don't need many words to introduce him, since he was famous even before his Reaping," I go on.

I can feel the eagerness of the crowd. Let's make them wait just a bit longer! You meet a tribute like him once in a blue moon, after all!

"His violet eyes have already been able to turn heads… according to rumours, even the Head Gamemaker's. I'm referring, of course, to Kyle Whiteswan!"

Kyle is welcomed by a standing ovation. He mounts the stage flaunting a self-confident smile, but I can tell by his red cheeks that he feels a bit embarrassed… or is he flattered by my introduction? In any case, I like it when tributes get a bit emotional, especially Careers. The usual I-am-ready-for-anything stuff is boring in the long run.

"You and your district partner have rocketed this evening, Kyle! Please, let your fellow tributes have some glory too!" I scold him in a playful way.

The crowd laughs and cheers in response.

"It's not my fault, if the audience loves me, Cinnamon. I've done nothing," he replies, holding his hands up in an act of defence.

Other laughs.

"You've done nothing!? Kyle, you're the son of two victors, this alone would be enough to love you! But you also rejected a volunteer! I think it's the first time it happens in the history of the Hunger Games!" I rebut.

"I had to, Cinnamon. Do you think that boy would stand a chance?"

"Umm… you sound disappointed, Kyle. Maybe you expected a better volunteer…" I point out, squinting.

"To be sincere, I had planned to volunteer next year. You know, winning a normal edition is one thing, but winning a Quarter Quell…"

"Aaaah, that's the point, then! But this doesn't mean that you have to disappoint your fans, okay? I want you to do your best in the arena, is that understood?"

He nods in response. "Yes, sir."

The buzzer sounds. So early? You can hear someone say NO in the crowd, indeed. We stand up.

"Time is cruel," I comment, shaking my head. "Ladies and gentlemen, Kyle Whiteswan from District 1!"

Another standing ovation.

"Oh, you'd better leave quickly, Kyle! I feel that some fans might bust in on you! Who could blame them? I'd do it myself!"

In response, Kyle pretends to start running away from fear, causing laughter... but he actually stops to wave at the crowd with a wide smile on his lips. How adorable!

"The next guest is not less good than Mr. Whiteswan, she also got the same score. Let's give a round of applause for Scarlett Pearce!"

The girl in wearing a nice, knee-long, red dress with black dots that make her look like a ladybug. Her dress is sleeveless but not as sexy as Excelsa's, since it has a turtleneck. Scarlett is wearing also a pair of red slippers, which makes her look even smaller than she is. What a pity!

"Welcome, Scarlett! So, how's your life in District 2?" I greet her.

"I'd rather talk about the Games," she rebuts with a straight face.

I turn to the crowd. "We have an eager tribute, apparently," I comment.

Some people giggle.

I turn back to my guest. Her piercing, ice blue eyes are trained on me. It's a bit creepy. I feel that if only she could tear me to pieces, she would do it with great pleasure. She must be really annoyed. _Okay, you're not the witty type, then…_

"Please, Scarlett, the scene is all yours," I encourage her.

"I just want to say that the arena doesn't scare me, because I've already killed a person," she replies.

Now, you can hear "ooooh" from the crowd.

"Who?" I ask her.

"My father. He had killed my mother, so I avenged her death. That is to say that I know what killing means, something that my fellow Careers don't… not yet, at least," she answers, her lips slightly curled to form what looks like a subtle smirk.

_Why doesn't the buzzer sound right now? This girl is too creepy for my liking!_

"That's an advantage," I admit.

"Yes, now that my hands are bloodstained forever, I cannot stop."

The buzzer sounds. I sigh in relief.

"But we have to end here, unfortunately. We're all looking forward to seeing you in the arena."

"The arena is my home, I won't disappoint you."

That said, she leaves the stage.

"Next tribute: Victor Blade!" I say, eager to move on.

The colours of his outfit are the same of his district partner's: red and black- in this case, red shirt and black pants. I wonder if their stylists made the same chromatic choice to suggest that there's something between them. Just district pride… or maybe a love affair?

"Victor! Your partner didn't want to talk about her life, what about you?"

"You're the Master of Ceremonies, Cinnamon, I'll be glad to answer all the questions you want," he replies with a smile.

"Good boy! Tell us something about yourself! Is there someone special waiting for you back home?" I go on.

"If you mean a girlfriend of sort, I'm sorry to disappoint you, I'm single. My life has been devoted to training so far."

"Oh, you do disappoint me, but certainly not many Capitolite girls. I mean… tanned skin, dark eyes and hair… you have a sort of southern charm… and then this red shirt… you look like a flamenco dancer!" I comment.

Some laughter from the crowd.

"Flamenco?" he echoes me.

"You don't know what it is?"

"No."

"Oh, it's just a type of dance."

"I see. Well, I could actually learn to dance this flamenco after winning the Games," he replies.

Other laughter.

"Ha, ha, ha… it would be great!"

The buzzer sounds.

"Any last comment before leaving, Victor?" I enquire.

"My name's Victor, winning is in my DNA, so root for me in the arena!" he answers.

"We certainly will!"

The crowd cheers as Victor is leaving the stage. His interview was a success… better than his district partner's, no doubt. It's a mystery to me how such boys can be single.

"Uuuuh… looks like things are heating up! And we've got still many tributes to interview! So, let's welcome the next one onstage: Ambra Clares from District 3!"

The girl is wearing a long, sleeveless, lilac dress with a silver waistband. Its colour fades from intense lilac to almost white at the edge. Her dark hair is combed in a long braid that falls along her left shoulder. A cockade is pinned to her dress.

"Ambra! You look great this evening!" I greet her.

"Thank you, Cinnamon, you too," she replies with a smile.

"You know, I would disappoint my fans, if I wore a shabby outfit…"-laughter from the crowd- "… but let's talk about you! I'm particularly curious about the cockade you're wearing. Did you win a beauty contest?"

"Oh, I did win a competition, but it was a chess tournament. This cockade comes from my district, indeed, it's my token for the Games."

"Well, you have chosen a good token, Ambra, the token of a winner," I point out.

"Yes, modesty aside, I think I'm pretty good at playing chess. You know, it's all a matter of strategy… like in the Hunger Games, after all," she goes on.

"So, you're comparing the Games to a game of chess. Interesting!" I comment.

"It's a good comparison, don't you think? Moves and countermoves, and at the end only one victor emerges."

"Yes, I must admit that you made a good point, and we all hope that the victor will be you."

"Thanks. I'll do my best to come back to my family!"

The buzzer sounds.

"Ah, I would talk to you about strategy all night long, but unfortunately your interview is over! Ladies and gentlemen, Ambra Clares!"

The crowd cheers. I shake hands with Ambra, wishing her good luck; then, she leaves the stage.

"Time for our next guest: Henry Almonds!"

When the boy makes his appearance, he's clearly overwhelmed by the warm welcome of the audience; I can tell it by his gaping expression.

"Welcome, Henry! Please, take your seat, and make yourself at home," I say, trying to make things more comfortable for him.

He sits down almost mechanically. "G-good e-evening," he stammers.

_Ah, the emotion of the crowd is always so overwhelming!_ _Maybe I should start with a question he expects, something he could have prepared… just to see if I can break the ice. He needs unlocking, that's for sure..._

I start the interview: "So, Henry… you got a 7, a se-ven! It's a surprising score for a young boy from District 3, don't you think?"

"I-I didn't expect to score that high neither. Guess Gamemakers appreciated my performance," he replies.

_Okay, he's still a bit stiff. Let's move to something more familiar, then! But, Henry, you should really try to do your part. I cannot do all the work myself, that's an interview!_

"They certainly did. Unfortunately, we cannot talk that much about your private session, so let's change the subject! Could you tell us something about your life?" I go on.

"Sure. My parents run an apothecary, that's why I know many things about plants. When I grow up, I'd like to work there, that's the best job in the world!" he answers with a smile.

_Umm… he seems happy to talk about that, so let's continue in this direction!_

"Well, when you win, you'll be able to realize your dream. You could invest in your activity, start a family… you've got plenty of aims worth fighting for!

"Honestly, I don't think winning will help me to start a new family," he rebuts, lowering his gaze.

"Why not?"

"I-I… I've got a crush on a girl, her name is Georgiana, but I always call her Georgie… the p-problem is that… s-she's Ambra's sister. If I win, Ambra dies, and I don't think Georgie would forgive me for letting her sister die."

Now, the crowd is dead silent.

"Yes, you're right: if you win, Ambra dies, but this doesn't mean that you have to kill her! You're allies, aren't you?" I retort.

He nods in response.

"Excellent! If you do your best to protect your ally, Georgie cannot blame you. When you win, you'll do it knowing that you did anything you could, and she would be stupid to reject a victor. What do you think?" I go on, addressing the crowd, who cheers in response.

The buzzer sounds. Henry seems a bit relieved, if not completely. He leaves the stage, while waving at the crowd. _Finally a bit of drama!_

"Speaking of surprising scores… let's give a round of applause foooor Vivian Tide!"

You can tell by the audience's reaction that she's one of the favourites- a standing ovation, cheers, and so on. An 11 is an 11, I suppose. Besides, the girl is beautiful… beautiful and capable, a good mix for a victor.

"Vivian, Vivian, Vivian… the tribute with the highest score of this year! How does it feel?" I greet her.

"Oh, Cinnamon, call me Vivi. We're friends, aren't we?" she replies in a mellifluous tone.

"Yes, but this doesn't answer my question, Vivi," I retort, putting my hands on my hips as if I wanted to scold her.

Some people laugh. I like making some show just for fun.

"You're right, I'll answer your question," she says, holding her hands up in an act of surrender. "To be sincere, I knew that my performance was amazing, but I didn't expect to get an 11, that's for sure!"

"I know that you're not supposed to reveal what you did in your session… but maybe just a little hint... tell us your secret!"

She smirks in response. "It's easy to say: I focused on things that I already knew before. Three days of training are certainly helpful, but they're not enough to master a new skill."

"Do you think that your score could cause problems?"

"I don't see how," she answers with a shrug.

"I mean… do you think that it could bring about conflicts with your allies? You're part of the Career pack, if I'm not wrong," I insist.

She sighs. "You know, Careers are always very competitive, but one stands out at the end, it's inevitable."

"So, you feel superior compared to your allies…"

"All I can say is that I'll do anything in order to win! I'll show Gamemakers that I deserve that 11!"

The buzzer sounds.

"And we all hope you'll do your best, Vivi," I add, while standing up.

"Count on that," she replies, grinning.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Vivian Tide from District 4!"

The crowd cheers.

"A lovely girl, don't you think? I like it when tributes show courage," I comment, after Vivian is gone. "But we haven't got enough time to dwell on such things, so let's move to the next guest: Oliver Litore!"

The audience welcomes him in a less warm way than his district partner, but I can say that they are glad to see him. After all, Oliver is a Career, despite his young age. But maybe their enthusiasm is due to his outfit, which is really… let's say peculiar: he is wearing a shirt that seems to be made of algae, sea green pants, dark blue flip-flops, and sunglasses on his head. It's a bit weird, and even Oliver seems a bit uncomfortable with his outfit, even though his pace is firm.

"Oliver! How are you?" I greet him.

"I'd feel better, if I didn't look like a waste caught at sea," he replies, sullen.

Laughter from the crowd.

"Ahem… I heard that you're the mayor's son, you must be a privileged boy, then," I go on.

"Mayor Litore is _not _my father, he adopted me after my true parents had been killed!" he rebuts, angry.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, my parents were killed because they were rebels! And he was so coward to hide the truth for many years! He didn't tell me that I have a twin sister… not even that!"

"Okay, you're understandably angry, but now calm down!"

"Calm down!? Why? My sister doesn't even know that we're siblings, she thinks I'm a stalker, and the worst part…"

"Oliver, now you've got the opportunity of telling the truth to your sister. You can go to the arena to win for her… for you two. After your victory, you'll be able to make up for lost time," I interrupt him in a soothing tone.

"No, that's the problem, I can't! My sister is a tribute like me!" he rebuts.

"Ooooh" from the crowd.

"Vivian? But…"

"No, not Vivian! Yolanda, the girl from Twelve, she is my twin sister! We were separated, and she was sent to District 12! And do you know why the mayor didn't adopt her as well?"

"Ehm… no."

"Because she suffers from asthma! The mayor didn't want a sick daughter, so he sent her away! How can I consider such a person my father!?"

The buzzer sounds.

"I've got one last thing to say before leaving!" he continues.

"Okay."

"The Head Peacekeeper, who's the mayor's brother, didn't want me to tell the truth, he even slapped me! He dared to hit a tribute, can you imagine that? But speaking was the right thing to do, don't you think?" he addresses the audience.

The crowd cheers in response, you can hear also cries of indignation. Oliver's story has won them. The boy leaves the stage without waving at the crowd, but I can tell by their reaction that he has just become one of their favourites.

I clear my throat, before going on: "Ahem… a lot of interesting stories this year. But now we should really move on! From District 5, the little Rhonda Hope!"

The crowd cheers to welcome her. She looks so scared and clumsy that I have to go take her hand to accompany her onstage. Then, I help her to sit down.

"Come on, dearie! You've got nothing to fear, I don't bite!" I encourage her with a smile.

The crowd laughs in response. The girl doesn't seem relieved by this cheerful atmosphere, though. Actually, she's shaking like a leaf. I should try another strategy, then.

I address the crowd: "Hey, you! Stop laughing! You distract our guest!"

Luckily, the audience does what I ask them.

I turn back to Rhonda, shaking my head. "There is never a moment of peace. My dear Rhonda, the scene is all yours now. You don't need to worry, I'll ask you just a couple of questions, it won't last long, okay?"

"O-okay," she replies.

She looks a bit relieved now, she even smiles at me. How sweet!

"Ooooh, you're wonderful when you smile! But let's go down to business! I heard that you knew your mentor Amanda Thunder even before the Reaping…"

"Yes, we used to live in the same community home. We're close friends. I was so happy when she won last year!" she replies.

"I can imagine it. You've got also the same district token, if I'm not wrong," I say, pointing at the bracelet she's wearing.

"Yes. Actually, this bracelet is mine, but I gave it to Amanda as a lucky charm after her Reaping. I wanted her to have something of home."

"That's really sweet! Well, that bracelet brought good luck to Amanda, and I'm sure it will help you as well!"

"I hope so. Knowing that someone loves you is really comforting."

The buzzer sounds.

"See? It wasn't that bad, was it?" I say with a smile.

"Yeah, I-I'm sorry… I didn't mean to make you waste time."

"Oh, dear, you don't need to apologize, being scared of crowds is quite common. Ladies and gentlemen, this was the sweet Rhonda Hope!"

The crowd cheers.

_Oh, is this fragile, little thing going to the arena? I can't believe it!_

As soon as Rhonda is gone, I introduce her district partner: "Let's move on! The list of tributes to interview is still long! So, let's welcome Mr. Cliff Wells onstage!"

The boy seems definitely more self-confident than his partner, you can tell it by the way he smiles and waves at the cheering crowd. _Very well, self-confidence equals I can ask him thorny questions..._

"Cliff, you look comfortable this evening," I greet him.

"Really? To be sincere, it's the first time someone interviews me, so I'm pretty nervous," he replies with a slight smile.

"You don't look so, my dear," I rebut.

"And yet that's what I feel," he retorts, shrugging.

"Umm… now I feel a bit guilty, because the question I'm about to ask you is a bit tough…"

"Just ask."

"Okay. Your district partner told us that she's friends with your mentor Amanda Thunder. Do you think she will be advantaged in the arena?"

"I expected this question, Cinnamon," he admits with a resigned smile. "I think that Amanda will inevitably make differences. Don't get me wrong, I'm not blaming her; in her place, I would probably do the same to protect those I love. In any case, District 5 has two mentors, so I hope that one of the two will consider me. I'm accustomed to injustices, and I know that there's little you can do."

"You're accustomed to injustices… what do you mean by that?" I continue.

"Ah, nothing special. My parents have a preference for my brother Timur," he answers with a shrug.

"They will change their minds when you win!"

"_If _I win… maybe…"

"Oh, come on! Positive thinking wouldn't hurt, Cliff!"

"I'm not negative, Cinnamon, I'm _realist_. I know that I'm not as trained as Careers, but I'll do my best to survive in the arena," he retorts.

"We all count on that, Cliff."

The buzzer sounds. Cliff and I stand up, then we shake hands.

"Good luck, Cliff Wells! May the odds be ever in your favour!"

The crowd cheers in response.

"Now, it's the turn of District 6, namely of Miss Alexa Steel!"

The girl is wearing a tight, short-sleeved, knee-long, white dress with a black, vertical band on either side. She's wearing also a pair of slippers like the girl from Two. I should really tell stylists that slippers don't so justice to girls!

"Alexa! Welcome onstage! How are you?" I greet her.

"Eager to be in the arena," she replies with a smirk.

"Oh, you won't need to wait long for that! Let's focus on your strategy for the Games! I heard that you've got no allies. Why?"

"At first, I thought that an alliance would be a good thing, but then I realized that it would be pointless. I mean… what's the point of allying with someone you will eventually betray? You know, there can be only one victor, and this victor will be me, so you'd better remember my name!"

"Why should sponsors support you?"

"Before being reaped, I had planned of becoming a peacekeeper. I've received a severe training, so I'm ready to face any difficult situation."

"That's interesting. Not many tributes receive a peacekeeper training before the Games… but, on the other hand, you got only a 5. What went wrong?" I point out.

I can tell by the way she frowns and glares at me that her training score is a sore point, but she manages to compose herself before replying: "Guess Gamemakers were all afraid of my physical strength."

Her tone is threatening. She wants me to change the subject, but I'm not scared.

I address the audience: "Well, we're all looking forward to seeing this physical strength at work. Am I right?"

The crowd cheers. The buzzer sounds. Alexa storms out of the stage immediately afterwards. She must be really angry.

"Uuuuh… I've made one tribute angry, apparently," I say, pretending to whisper, but actually everyone can hear me, since I speak on the mic.

Laugher from the crowd.

"I think we'd better move on, anyway! Our next guest is Christopher Terranova from District 6!"

A warm welcome also for him. His outfit- an open vest, and skinny jeans- is all made of blue denim, except for the black T-shirt and headband he's wearing. On the whole, he has a cheeky style.

"Oh, Christopher! Why did you stylist dress you like that?" I enquire.

"Don't you like my outfit?" he replies with another question.

"It's not that, just… it's a curious choice for an interview," I answer.

"Well, I cannot be worse that the boy from Four," he comments.

The crowd laughs in response.

"Ha, ha, ha… definitely not!" I agree.

"I think he wanted me to look like a bad guy," he explains.

"Why?"

"'Cause I _am _a bad guy, Cinnamon. I belong to a gang, and I've got also a tattoo to prove it," he replies, rolling up his left sleeve to show the tattoo in question.

Is that a diamond?

"But you're so young!"

"The alternative was a dreary community home. I come from the transportation district, I have a natural passion for travels and explorations. I cannot live my whole life within four walls!"

"Well, tomorrow, you'll go to a completely unexplored place, but I hope you won't forget the real purpose of the Hunger Games. I want you to fight hard to win, okay?"

"Sure," he replies with a nod.

The buzzer sounds.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Christopher Terranova, the little explorer of District 6!"

The crowd cheers.

"Next district: District 7; next tribute: Bella Page!"

By the audience's enthusiasm, I can tell that also Bella is popular. How could it be otherwise? When siblings end up in the same Games, they immediately find the sympathy of the audience. The fact that at least one of them has to die makes their stories so tragic! Anyway, an item in Bella's outfit catches immediately my eye: a gold necklace with a rose-shaped pendant. It really gives a touch of style to the simple dress she's wearing.

"My dear Bella, I couldn't help but notice your wonderful necklace…" I begin.

"It's my district token," she explains.

"It must have a special meaning for you," I go on.

In response, she slightly blushes. "Yes. Actually… it reminds me… it reminds me of a special person: Rose, my best friend…"- she takes a deep breath- "… to be sincere, she's more than a friend to me, but… I don't know if she feels the same… probably not."

"Awwww" from the crowd.

"Thank you, Bella, thank you for sharing this thing with us. It must have been tough," I thank her.

"Yeah, but I needed to get rid of this burden. If I'm going to die, at least Rose will know the truth from my mouth."

"Oh, dear, don't speak like that! There's still hope!"

"I'm not going to give up, Cinnamon, if that's what you fear, just… I cannot choose my life over my brother's. I don't know what will happen in the arena, all I know is that I will protect him at all costs!"

"A noble purpose that speaks for you, Bella. You and Cedric must be very united…" I comment.

"Yes, we're very united, even though we're not siblings for real. Cedric has been adopted, but I've always loved him as a brother," she replies with a nod.

Now, you can hear several "ooooh" from the crowd. What a shocking revelation!

"This makes your purpose even nobler! I wish you good luck!"

"Thank you, Cinnamon."

The buzzer sounds. I shake hands with Bella. After that, she leaves the stage accompanied by the applauses of the audience.

* * *

**Have you got any comments on these interviews?**

**Thank you for reading :)**


	26. Interview with the Tributes-Part2

_The evening before the Games_

_Cinnamon Nicewarble (47)- Master of Ceremonies_

"Time for our next guest: Cedric Page!"

The crowd cheers in response. After Bella's revelation, we're all eager to know more about the couple of District 7. Anyway, the boy is wearing an orange shirt with a leaf pattern. The shirt is made of a shiny material, and its bright colour is brought out by the mahogany shade of the suede trousers he's wearing.

"Cedric! Looks like your stylist has a passion for leaves!" I begin.

"Apparently," he replies with a slight smile.

"I'll be honest… your costume was one of the best chariot outfits I've seen in years!" I continue.

"Yeah, it was amazing. Emeralda is a great stylist, and I'm glad she's part of my prep team," he agrees.

"No doubt. But let's move to more serious things! Your sister told us you've been adopted. What can you tell us about that?"

"Well, it's a sad story, to be sincere… at least, the beginning is sad. There was a fire that destroyed my old house. My parents died, but my foster father rescued me from the flames. Since then…"- he starts sobbing- "… since then, I've lived with his family. Him, my foster mother, Bella… I love them all! I cannot imagine that our family will be destroyed forever!"

That said, he bursts into tears, covering his face with his hands. I stand up to approach him, putting my hand on his shoulders. An assistant brings a box of tissues, and I hand it to Cedric.

"T-thanks," he says, taking a tissue to wipe away his tears.

"Courage, Cedric! Do you think your family would like to see you like that?" I encourage him with a tender smile.

He watches me. "I-I don't think so," he admits.

I address the audience: "Come on, you all! Let's give a round of applause for the courage of this young boy!"

The crowd cheers in response. Cedric seems heartened. I sit down again.

"Cedric, listen… I know that the situation is difficult. I mean, being sent to the arena along with your sister is so unfair! But there's nothing we can do to avoid that; therefore, you should try to do your best. Bella gonna protect you, but you need to do your part as well, okay?" I say.

"Okay."

"That's my boy!"

The buzzer sounds.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Cedric Page from District 7!"

The crowd erupts into cheers, then Cedric leaves the stage.

"Our next guest is the other victor's child of this year: Autumn Peachskin from District 8!

The audience welcomes her with enthusiasm. The girl is wearing a broad, turquoise dress that reaches to the feet. It is long-sleeved, covered by glitter, and its top part is tight to highlight her breast. Her auburn hair is combed in a high bun. She looks amazing.

"Autumn! Welcome onstage!" I greet her.

"Thank you, Cinnamon. I'm honoured to be here," she replies, grinning.

"It's us who are honoured to have you here. Your father is a victor of the Hunger Games, you volunteered for your sister… you didn't want to go unnoticed, did you?"

"Definitely not. Honestly, I don't think that going unnoticed is a good strategy for the Games. One has to count on their own forces, but also the support of sponsors is fundamental, and one cannot get it by going unnoticed."

"And what's your strategy for the Games, then?" I enquire.

"I've allied with my district partner. I know that other alliances outnumber ours, but a small group is more practical in terms of internal organization. Our first concern is, of course, our survival, but we'll manage to defend ourselves if attacked," she answers.

"A defensive strategy, then," I comment.

"Yes. We have both trained hard, but overestimating our abilities would be a dangerous mistake."

_Oh, dearie, don't speak like that! This kind of thoughts won't rally sponsors to your cause!_

"But your lives will be at stake in the arena, and, you know, people are said to find a force they didn't know they possessed in such situations. I hope it will happen also to you," I rebut.

"It will definitely happen to us, Cinnamon. I think that Tartan and I are more united than other groups, because we fight for the same district!"

The buzzer sounds.

"Ah, district pride is always a good thing! Unfortunately, we cannot chat any longer. Your interview is over, my dear Autumn, but I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow! Good luck!"

"Thank you, Cinnamon," she replies with a wide smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen, that's the spirit of a victor's child!"

The audience cheers. Autumn leaves the stage, smiling and waving at the adoring crowd. What a lovely girl! I wouldn't mind, if she won.

"Well, Miss Autumn Peachskin is gone, but I'm sure we are all eager to know more about her district partner and ally Tartan Dye!

The crowd cheers to welcome him. The boy is dressed in blue from head to toe. He looks less self-confident than Autumn, but, as soon as he makes his appearance, he starts waving at the audience, who seems to love him. Being the sole ally of a victor's child has its advantages, I suppose. I've got something to work on, at least.

"Tartan! Looks like blue is the colour of District 8 this year! Also your chariot outfits were blue!" I point out, as soon as we both take our seats.

"Yes. Blue is a nice colour," he replies with a slight smile.

"But it couldn't be otherwise, after all! You have Jake Saffi in your team! You know, he's nicknamed "the blue king". Where are you, Jake?" I add, looking in the general direction of the audience.

A young man stands up in the crowd, and is thus applauded by them. Actually, he loves the colour blue so much that even his skin is dyed blue.

"But let's focus on you, Tartan!" I say, turning again to my guest. "Your brother Denim competed last year. How does it feel to be in the same situation?"

I can tell by the way his facial expression changes that my question hurts, even though it wasn't totally unexpected.

At some point, he closes his eyes, and then lowers his gaze. "It hurts, Cinnamon. My… my brother d-didn't deserve to die, and yet… but I-I think that being reaped was a sort of punishment. I should have volunteered for him last year," he answers with a broken voice.

"Awww" from the crowd.

"Feeling guilty is normal, Tartan, but your brother wouldn't want you to give up," I say, trying to soothe him.

He watches me in response, and I notice that his eyes are reddish. "I will never give up, I will win also for him!" he rebuts, moved.

"That's the spirit! Ahem… I see that your brother is a sore point, so I won't ask you other questions about him..."- he nods in response-"...your training score is 6, which is very good for a boy of your age. What are your skills, Tartan?" I go on.

"Well, I've got a passion for painting, that's why I've tried to learn some tricks about camouflage."

"Do you paint also at home?"

"I've got a group of friends who share my passion. We meet, and… yeah, we usually decorate abandoned buildings, but people tend to see us as vandals, so…"

"Oh, that's bad! They don't let you express your art in liberty! Well, listen to me… when you win, you'll be able to create a space only for painting! What do you think?

His eyes light up. "I think it would be great!"

The buzzer sounds.

"Ah, time is cruel! Ladies and gentlemen, this was Tartan Dye from District 8!"

The crowd cheers in response, and Tartan leaves the stage.

I sigh. "Oh, his story was so moving… but we have to move on! Our next guest is Rebecca Field from District 9!"

Rebecca looks like an innocent farm girl with her golden hair combed in two braids, but her family name tells a different story. The Fields used to be rebels, but I'm definitely not going to talk about that. I don't want to lose my job, after all!

"So, Rebecca… you got a 9, which is an excellent score. You could actually be a Career…" I point out.

"Yes, my score is excellent, but I will never join the Career pack, that's for sure," she replies with conviction.

_Asking her why is pointless, I suppose…_

"But Careers might see you a threat, considering your high score…"

"I think it's inevitable. When a tribute from an outer district get such a high score, he or she is automatically targeted. But I'm not afraid of Careers. If they want to hunt me down, they're free to do it, but I will defend myself tooth and claw. I won't go down without a fight!"

If her eyes could catch fire, I think they would do it right now. What a fiery spirit!

The crowd cheers. Rebecca has won them too.

"Oh, your fierceness is thrilling, dearie! I'm getting goose bumps! But let's move to something more personal!"

"Okay."

"I heard that there was some disagreement within your alliance…" I go on.

"My district partner left the alliance just because he was jealous, there's nothing else I can say in this regard," she replies with a shrug, but I can tell by her tone that she feels uneasy now.

_I'm sorry, Rebecca, I'm not going to change the subject!_

"Jealous?" I echo her.

She sighs. "He thinks that there's something between me and the boy of District 13," she explains.

"Ooooh" from the crowd.

_A possible in-Games romance! Things are getting interesting…_

"And is he right?"

"I like Owen, but we're both tributes, and there can be only one victor. If I want to win, he has to die. Since I do want to win the Games, we cannot be more than friends and allies."

The buzzer sounds.

_So early? But I'm not yet done talking about all this!_

I stand up. "Who knows? The arena could bring you closer together!"

"We'll see."

"Well, I wish you good luck, Rebecca!" I say, kissing her hand.

"Thanks."

Rebecca leaves the stage accompanied by the cheers of the audience. Another amazing tribute… I wouldn't want to be in sponsors' shoes. Who should I root for?

"Rebecca is gone, but we're overdue a conversation! Let's continue it with her district partner Adam Thorn! Come on, Adam! It's your turn!"

The boy comes on stage, and the crowd erupts into cheers. Affairs and love triangles are things that keep people glued to the screen. Tributes are not only fighters, they're also people with their own stories to tell, and a good story could actually make a big difference in the Games.

"Adam! Your district partner told us that you're jealous. Is it really so?"

"I have good reasons for being jealous. Rebecca is my fiancée," he replies with a straight face.

"Ooooh" from the crowd.

"Does it mean that…?"

"Yeah, I asked for her hand right before the Reaping, and she accepted. I volunteered to protect her."

"Awww" from the audience.

"But you left her alliance…"

"I couldn't help that. Coin has buzzed around her from the very beginning- actually, the idea of an alliance between our districts was his- and Rebecca seems to prefer him over me. I cannot force her to love me, I'm not that kind of man, that's why I left the alliance. But this doesn't mean that I gave up on protecting her," he says, his tone halfway between anger and resignation.

"But you found another ally- the boy from Ten- if I'm not wrong."

"Yep."

"What does he think of this situation?"

"I don't think he would stop me, if I decided to sacrifice my life for Rebecca. We'll be allies as long as possible, but we know it's just a temporary situation. In any case, we're both strong, we stand more chances than many others, so I don't think it will happen early in the Games."

"Don't you think that your intention to protect Rebecca could cause a breakup?"

"That's a possibility, but, you know, anything may happen in the arena. We'll see how things develop, and behave accordingly."

The buzzer sounds. We both stand up.

"I'm glad you're so self-confident, Adam. I wish you the best," I say, while shaking hands with him.

"Thank you, Cinnamon," he replies with a slight smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Adam Thorn from District 9!"

The crowd cheers in response, and Adam leaves the stage while waving at the audience.

"Let's move to District 10! Please, give a round of applause for Estrella Sol!"

Another simple dress that would be easily considered mediocre by many fashion experts, if it wasn't for the necklace the girl is wearing- white beads (I don't think they're real pearls; they don't look as such, at least) and feathers. A little rustic but nice.

"My dear Estrella, before we start, I have good news for you: they told me to inform you that your grandmother is fine."

In response, the girl sighs in relief, and a smile forms on her lips. She must have worried a lot about her grandmother. Now, she's beaming with joy. Looks like I've just given her the strength she needed. How rewarding!

"What did happen to your grandmother, if I may ask?" I enquire.

"I-I don't know exactly. A friend of mine told me that she had felt bad after the Reaping… I-I… I couldn't even tell her goodbye," she answers, as tears start flooding from her eyes.

An assistant brings again a box of tissues.

"Oh, dearie… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry. Come on, wipe away your tears. Your grandmother wouldn't want to see you like that, right?" I apologize, while handing her the box.

"Yeah… she certainly wants me to stay strong. Actually, this necklace is hers, so it's like she was with me. She will give me strength in the arena. Now that I know she's fine, I have one more reason to fight," she replies, pointing at the necklace she's wearing.

"That's a really nice necklace."

"Thank you. I made it for her."

"Oh, really? You've got a talent."

"Thanks. Sometimes, my grandmother and I sell the necklaces we make."

"So that's your life in District 10…"

"Well, I've got also a part-time job. I work at Paradise Ranch, which belongs to Timothy's family."

"You knew your district partner before the Reaping, then."

"Yes, we are… we _were _friends," she says, lowering her gaze.

"What has happened?" I ask her.

"I-I… I'm in love with him. I confessed my feelings for him, but he rejected me," she explains.

"Oh, that's bad! One-sided love is painful!" I comment.

"It is," she agrees.

The buzzer sounds.

"My dear Estrella, your interview is over. All I can do now is wishing you good luck. Timothy doesn't love you, but at least your grandmother does. Fight for her!"

"I will."

"Let's give a round of applause for this brave girl!"

The crowd cheers in response. Estrella leaves the stage. Now, it's her partner's turn. Apparently, more than one tribute has love trouble this year.

"Next tribute: Timothy Cunningham from District 10!"

A warm welcome also for him. Love is always a good subject for debate.

"Timothy! Your ally Adam has love problems, but you're no better, apparently. Any comment on what your district partner said?"

"There's little to say, Cinnamon. I don't love her. If she cannot accept it, that's not my problem," he replies with a straight face.

"Why are you that harsh? Estrella was just honest with you, and you broke her heart. She said you were friends, and friends don't behave like that, " I retort.

"I just made things clear, Cinnamon. I could no longer see her as a friend, knowing what she feels for me. Believe me, staying apart is the best thing to do!"

"But maybe with time…"

He interrupts me: "No way! We belong to two different worlds! Even our friendship was a miracle itself!"- he sighs, and then resumes his speech in a more relaxed tone- "My family is rich, Estrella's is poor. I used to think that we could be friends nonetheless, but now… what if she loved me just due to my money? I couldn't stand that! In any case, we're both tributes in this year's Games, so there's no use in speculating. Honestly, I'd like to talk about something else."

I'd like to tell him that this decision is not up to him, but then I realize it would be pointless. I'll satisfy his request.

"Okay, as you wish. Umm… what would you like to talk about?"

_You should really thank me, I rarely give my guests such a free choice!_

My question catches him off guard. "Can I really talk about what I want?" he asks back, suspicious.

I smile in response. "Of course you can! Isn't that what you want, in the end?"

"Yes, but… okay, I think that sponsors might be interested in my strategy for the Games. I've chosen Adam as an ally because he's strong… we're both strong, and our training scores are evidence of this. In addition, we both know for what we fight. I fight for my family… as for Adam… well, if he prefers Rebecca's life over his, I cannot convince him otherwise. I want an ally, not a friend. Rebecca has talent, she won't die early in the Games; as a consequence, my alliance might stick together for a while. After all, I'm pretty sure Adam will try to protect her from outside her group."

"Don't you think that this might put you in jeopardy as well?"

"I can look after myself."

The buzzer sounds.

"I'm glad you have a level head, Timothy. I wish you good luck!" I say, while shaking hands with him.

"Thank you."

"Timothy Cunningham from District 10!"

The crowd cheers in response. Timothy is kind of cold-hearted, but I like his determination. I'm curious to see what he will do once in the arena.

"Only three district left, we have almost finished… unfortunately. Honestly, I'm fond of all tributes, I can't imagine that only one will win. Do you feel the same?" I say, addressing the audience.

The crowd cheers. _Very well, they're still tuned…_

"Without any further ado, let's welcome the next guest onstage: Maya Seeds!"

The little girl is wearing a bell-shaped, long-sleeved, white dress that reaches to her ankles. Her dress has a pattern of pink flowers, and its light colour brings out the ebony tone of her skin, eyes, and hair. As soon as the girl gets closer to me, I can tell that she's amazed- she's slightly shaking, but her dark eyes glow with such a joy!

"Maya! How was your experience in the Capitol?" I begin.

"Amazing! Capitol City is a whole different world compared to District 11!" she answers, grinning.

"In what sense?" I enquire.

"Well… don't get me wrong, this city is wonderful, but… I'm used to living in contact with nature, and I miss it here. I miss my family too; we're not that well-off, but we love one another, and that's what matters."

"Missing home is comprehensible, dearie. How's your life in District 11?"

"I'm a student. Actually, I passed a test to get into a private school. I'd like to become a teacher."

"That's a noble intent! When you win, you'll be able to pursue your dream, Mrs. Seeds."

"I have to win first," she says, lowering her gaze. "I know that my chances are low, but I'll do my best, I promise."

"That's the spirit! Where there is life there is hope… maybe I should have said it to the girl from Five, considering her surname…"

Laughter from the crowd.

At some point, the buzzer sounds.

"Unfortunately, your interview is over. May the odds be ever in your favour, Mrs. Seeds!"

The crowd cheers.

"Thank you," she replies with a wide smile.

"She's adorable, isn't she? I already miss her!" I comment, as soon as Maya is gone. "Let's see if her district partner is adorable as well! Please, come, Tobias Jackson, it's your turn!"

The boy mounts the stage accompanied by the cheers of the audience. He looks rather nervous, but manages to flaunt a smile.

"Good evening, Mr. Nicewarble," he greets me, while taking his seat.

"Oh, you're a polite boy, Tobias, but formality is not necessary, you can call me Cinnamon," I reply, grinning.

"Okay, Cinnamon."

"So… you have drawn attention since the chariot parade. The idea of throwing pieces of your costumes at the crowd was yours, right?"

"Yes."

"Why did you do that?"

"Well, I thought it was a good idea to leave a mark. Maya and I are very young, and I bet there aren't many sponsors willing to support our team. In such conditions, one has to come up with something to get noticed. The crowd liked our little show, so what's the problem?"

"No problem at all, I was just curious. You know, I have to ask you something, it's my job!" I say in a melodramatic tone.

Laughter from the crowd.

"Of course," he replies.

_I don't like his attitude. He's not as sweet as Maya, that's for sure!_

"Well, let's move on… you said that Maya is your ally. What are the strengths of your team?" I continue.

"Also Fabian- the boy of District 12- is part of our team. The other tributes are likely to underestimate us, but we'll show them that they're wrong, because we won't go down without a fight!"

The buzzer sounds. We both stand up and shake hands.

"I appreciate your self-confidence. Good luck!" I say.

"Thanks," he replies.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Tobias Jackson from District 11!"

The crowd cheers in response, and the boy leaves the stage. I won't miss him, there's a more interesting guest immediately after him: the girl of District 12. After the breakout of her alleged twin brother Oliver, I'm eager to interview her.

"Our next guest seems to have an intriguing backstory… at least, according to what her twin brother said. I'm referring, of course, to Yolanda Underwood! Please, come onstage, Yolanda!"

The girl is welcomed by a standing ovation. She's wearing a short-sleeved, knee-long, lime green dress with horizontal, pine green bands. The colour of her dress perfectly matches that of her hair, which is combed in a low ponytail. To complete her outfit, she has golden sandals at her feet.

"Yolanda! You have a twin brother, apparently," I say.

"No, he's just a liar," she rebuts with a straight face.

"Are you sure?"

"It's true, I've been adopted, and my real parents came from District 4, but the probabilities that I have a brother who's a tribute like me are very low. This is not a book, Cinnamon, this is real life! Oliver is- don't know why- obsessed with me! In fact, he has been following me around for three days!" she answers, starting to get angry.

"But what if he was your brother for real? What would you do?"

"I've planned to win the Games without allies, and that's…"

She doesn't finish her utterance, though. She starts to gasp. Her face is slowly turning red, and she brings both her hands on her chest.

"Yolanda… what's up?" I ask, worried.

"My… my inhaler…" she wheezes.

_Oh, gosh! That's an asthma attack! What should I do? What can I do? I cannot let her die like that, it's the wrong time!_

Luckily, Terry Appalachia- Yolanda's mentor- is called to the stage. She brings her inhaler, and hands it to her protegée. The girl immediately grabs it, and starts wheezing into it. The audience is dead silent, they're all waiting for her to recover. Luckily, it takes her only a few seconds to do so, but it seemed like an eternity. Now, the girl is breathing normally.

I sigh in relief. "You scared us to death, Yolanda, but I'm glad you're fine now. I think we'd better end it here, I don't want to pile on. After all these emotions… and there will be more tomorrow! Ladies and gentlemen, give a round of applause for Yolanda Underwood!"

The crowd cheers in response. I shake hands with Yolanda, then she leaves the stage along with her mentor.

"Wow! So many emotions tonight! My heart is still beating like crazy! And my hair has turned white from fear… wait, I forgot, my hair is white 'cause I dyed it!" I say.

The audience laughs. _Well done, Cinnamon, you lightened the mood!_

"So many emotions, but we need to move on nonetheless! Our next guest is Fabian Swift from District 12!" I continue.

Fabian's outfit is definitely the most colourful so far- a shirt half green and half purple, with green dots on the purple half, and purple dots on the green half; yellow trousers with sequins; black shoes covered by glitter; a silver borsalino. All these colours combined create a flamboyant patchwork which is very rare to see during tributes' interviews.

"Fabian! Looks like your stylist loves playing with colours! All these colours together make me dizzy!" I comment.

"Well, I told my stylist that I'm a gambler, but I think he mistook gambler for magician," he replies with a shrug.

Laughter from the crowd.

"Ha, ha, ha… it's a plausible explanation! But let's focus on you and not on your outfit! You said you're a gambler. Could you please explain?"

"Let's say that I like risking. Easy victories are not for me, that's why I've chosen the couple of District 11 as allies. I think they're capable despite appearances, but the other tributes don't agree with me, otherwise they wouldn't leave them aside."

"So, you've got a strategy, you haven't allied with them… let's say… out of pity…"

He frowns in response. "I don't think pity is the right word, Cinnamon," he points out.

"Well, Fabian, your score is 7, which is very good, so you're not likely to be underestimated. Someone could target you and, by extension, your allies," I retort.

"We'll defend ourselves, then."

The buzzer sounds. We both stand up and shake hands.

"I hope your strategy will work, Fabian! I wish you the best!"

"Thank you."

"Fabian Swift from District 12!"

The crowd cheers, and the boy leaves the stage.

"Last but not least, District 13! Please, welcome Christine Harsh onstage!" I go on.

A warm welcome also for Christine. The girl is wearing a one-shoulder, pumpkin orange dress that reaches to her knees. Her dress has a black waistband and a ribbon on its sole shoulder. She's wearing also black high heels, but she's clearly not used to walking in them, since she's wobbling. She looks quite embarrassed. I get closer to her, take her hand, and help her to sit down.

"Thank you, Cinnamon," she whispers, blushing.

"You're welcome, my dear. You look great this evening!" I reply with a smile.

"Thank you. This is not exactly my style, but… yeah, this dress is wonderful."

"What's your usual style, then?"

"Well, I'm a tomboy, but Carol should be happy to see me dressed like that, and if she's happy, I'm happy as well."

"Carol?"

"The reaped girl, she's my girlfriend, I volunteered for her," she explains.

"Awww" from the crowd.

"How sweet! She must be a special person to you," I comment.

Christine nods in response. "She is the only person worth fighting for. Actually, she gave me a foulard after the Reaping like ladies used to do with their knights in the ancient times. I am Carol's knight, I'm ready to fight and win!"

"Oh, the knightly imagery is so romantic! But let's move to something- let's say- more Games-related. You did well in your private session. What are your strengths?"

She smirks. "Ah, I don't want to ruin the surprise, Cinnamon! All I can say is that I will do anything in order to win!"

The buzzer sounds.

"I'm looking forward to seeing what tricks you have up your sleeve! Good luck, Christine! You won't disappoint us, will you?" I say, while shaking hands with her.

"Never," she replies.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Christine Harsh from District 13!"

The crowd cheers. Christine leaves the stage with wavering gait, but at least she manages not to fall. Now, it's the turn of her district partner. Owen Coin, a Coin in the Hunger Games! I don't know whether I should feel happy or worried to have him as a guest. _Come on, Cinnamon, he's the last guest! Tomorrow, he'll be sent to the arena with all the other tributes, so he won't be your problem any longer!_

"Ladies and gentlemen, time for our last guest! To be sincere, I don't think he needs a long introduction, because his family name speaks for him. Let's welcome Owen Coin onstage!"

Owen Coin is Alma Coin's grandson, but the audience welcomes him nonetheless. The boy doesn't even look at the crowd, he heads straight in my direction.

"Welcome, Owen!" I greet him.

I stretch out my hand. He reluctantly takes it, so we can shake hands. After that, we both sit down.

"So, I know you've allied with your district partner, Rebecca from Nine, and Estrella from Ten. Lucky among women, Owen! What are the strengths of your alliance?" I start.

"Now that Adam is gone, I think that our group is more united. Our fellow tributes should not underestimate us, especially Christine and me. We come from District 13, but this doesn't mean that we're already doomed. Our district is strong, as we showed at the Reaping," he answers.

_You want to touch on sore spots, Owen, but I cannot you let you do so!_

"And what about Rebecca?" I enquire.

"She rightly said that we cannot be anything more than friends and allies, since there can be only one victor. I totally agree with her," he replies.

"But do you feel something for her?" I insist.

"She's a wonderful girl, but… nothing will ever happen between us. All I can say is that Adam was wrong to treat her like a child to protect at all costs, but I can understand him. I didn't want to make them argue. They argued due to a boy who will be dead soon, but at least I will die knowing that he will protect her. If I was allowed to bet on a tribute, I'd bet on Rebecca."

The audience is silent. This is the most sincere declaration of love I've ever heard in years of experience! The buzzer sounds, thus breaking the spell, but this moment will not be forgotten.

"I'm sorry, Owen, your interview is over, but I must admit that I admire your courage. I wish you good luck!" I say with a straight face.

"Thank you, Cinnamon," he replies with a slight smile.

We both stand up and shake hands.

"Owen Coin from District 13!"

The crowd erupts into cheers. A standing ovation also for him. After that, he leaves the stage as stoically as he came.

"That's all for tonight! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

* * *

**So, this is the second half of interviews (from D7M to D13M). Have you got any comments?**


	27. Eve of the Games: Distant Siblings

_The night before the Games_

_Oliver "Ollie" Litore (15)- District 4 male tribute_

_The Distant Brother_

I'm taking a lift to the twelfth floor of the Training Center. Thalas is with me. He keeps silent, but I can tell by his sullen expression that he's angry… angry with me. My breakout during the interviews has certainly made my position within the Career pack more critical than before. In other words, I've screwed things up. He has insisted on me allying with the Careers from the very beginning, but, deeper down, I know that I'm not a Career, and I can feel that my alleged allies hardly bear my presence… not all of them, but the majority yes. However, being a Career might be the best way to protect my sister. If someone tries to harm her, I'll show them that I can do anything in order to protect those I love!

At the moment, I'm looking in on my sister. I feel the need to see her, especially after she had an asthma attack on live TV. I want to know if she's okay. I want to tell her that I'm not a liar, that I'm her brother for real, and that she can count on my help in the arena, even though we'll be separated. Gamemakers will no doubt keep us apart. After all, Capitolites love drama, and what's more dramatic than two siblings forced to stay away from each other? I clench my fists. When I found out the truth about me and Yolanda, I wanted so badly to meet her, but definitely under different circumstances. Life has been unfair to us, and it will be even more so starting from tomorrow. Actually, this could be my only chance to tell my sister that I care about her, and that I'm sorry for what did and will happen to us.

I look at Thalas out of the corner of my eye: he's gazing at the lift's doors, but he actually seems to be staring off into space. I wonder what he's thinking about. About how ungrateful and thoughtless I am? Maybe. Actually, tributes are supposed to stay in their rooms and rest the night before the Games, but he managed along with the mentor of District 12 to arrange a meeting between me and Yolanda. I should really thank him. This could be also my only chance to make peace with him. After all, we used to live under the same roof. He's the older brother I've never had. I know he finds this meeting pointless, but he cannot understand what I feel. When he took part in the Hunger Games, he had a blood connection with none of his fellow tributes.

"Thalas," I say.

"Yes?" he replies, turning to me.

"I'm sorry for causing troubles for you," I apologize, lowering my gaze.

At first, he doesn't say anything in response- maybe he didn't expect me to apologize- but then he replies: "Never mind, Ollie. If you didn't cause troubles, I'd start to worry."

_Is that a joke? _

I look at him again: he's not smiling, but he doesn't seem angry either.

At some point, he sighs. "I know you don't like my strategy, but, believe me, everything I've done so far is for your own sake. I don't want to lose you, Oliver. Careers are not the most trustworthy allies, but they're usually the strongest tributes in the arena. I'm not asking you to stay with them at the risk of getting killed, you'll need to abandon them sooner or later…"

"When?" I ask, interrupting him.

"You'll understand when. The Career pack has to split at some point, but it doesn't happen always at the same stage of the Games. You know, every edition has its own history," he answers.

At this point, the doors open. We both set foot on the twelfth floor. I look around. This place has been designed to look like the interior of a cave, there are also some fake stalactites hanging from the ceiling. Those stalactites are lighted, guess they serve as chandeliers. Every piece of furniture seems to be carved into rock, as if everything was part of one inseparable block. The main colour is black… coal black. After all, Twelve is specialized in coal mining.

"Good evening," says a voice.

I look in the direction from which the voice came: I see a woman with dark grey eyes, and brown hair. She's thin, and not very tall. She must be in her thirties, but the little wrinkles around her eyes make her look older than she is.

"Good evening, Terry," Thalas greets her.

Terry Appalachia, the mentor of District 12.

"Where's Yolanda?" I ask her.

"She'll come soon," she answers. "In the meantime, would you like some ice tea?" she offers, pointing at a black marble table, on which a carafe and some glasses stand.

"Thank you, Terry," replies Thalas.

We all sit at the table.

"What are your intentions?" Terry asks me with a straight face.

"My… my intentions?" I echo her, confused.

"I cannot let you see Yolanda, if I don't know what you want to do," she explains.

"I just wanted her to know the truth," I say, defensive.

"Terry, I can assure you that it's not a strategy. Yolanda and Oliver are siblings for real. If you want, I can provide you with documents that prove their blood connection," Thalas chimes in.

"I don't care about the past, what I think of is the near future. Whether they're siblings or not is irrelevant, they'll end up in the arena in any case. What I want to know is how your protégé is going to behave with Yolanda. He's a Career. Will he try to kill her?" she retorts.

In response, I slam my hand on the table. "Not at all! I'll stay with the Careers just to make sure they won't find her! Believe me, if they dare to harm her, I'll kill them without second thoughts!" I rebut, beside myself.

"Calm down, Oliver!" Thalas orders me.

"I cannot calm down! She thinks I'm two-faced!"

In response, a slight smile forms on Terry's lips. "Well, Yolanda and you have something in common: you're hotheads. Anyway, I'll let you see your sister. Yolanda! You may come now!"

…...

_Yolanda Underwood (15)- District 12 female tribute_

_The Outsider_

"…Yolanda! You may come now!"

I snort in response. Why has Terry insisted so much on the necessity of this meeting? I don't want to see that boy! He's just a stalker and a liar! We're not siblings for real, it's just a way to justify his twisted obsession with me! We may resemble each other, we may be born in the same district, but that's not enough to prove that we're siblings, right?

I walk down the hall, and join the others. As soon as Oliver sees me, he immediately stands up. He looks like a wounded puppy as usual. How pathetic!

"How are you, Yolanda?" he asks me in a quivering voice.

_Is he about to cry? Please not!_

"I'm fine," I answer.

"Maybe you need some privacy," Terry chimes in.

"No, wait!" I protest, but both Terry and the mentor of District 4 leave the room.

Now, I'm alone with Oliver… precisely the last thing I wanted! I head straight to the table, pour a glass of tea, and drink it in one shot. The boy has still his eyes trained on me. How annoying!

"Do you want to stand there all night long?" I ask him, after finishing my drink.

"I don't know what to say," he replies, uneasy.

"Why are you here, then?"

He gets closer to me. "I know you don't believe me, and I cannot blame you, just… I'm not your enemy, I want to protect you. Please, let me help you."

"I don't need your help."

"Do you really think so? You have no allies, the Games gonna be tougher for you," he retorts.

"I have no allies because I want to be on my own. Gamemakers let me take my inhaler with me, so I'll be ready even for asthma attacks. But do you think they do it out of kindness? No, they do it out of pity! They don't think I stand a chance, no one does, not after what happened during my interview!" I say, angry.

"I do think you stand a chance, instead. Besides, the interviews are just a stupid farce, it's training that matters. I'm a Career, but you scored higher than me. It's a beginning, don't you think?" he rebuts, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I watch him closely. I'm not angry. If Fabian made the same comment, I would probably yell at him. Everything in the Games matters! Can I really trust Oliver? Will he not try to kill me in the arena? Is he really willing to lose his life? If so, either he's mad or he truly loves me. What if we were siblings for real? What would I do? Ah, there's nothing I can do! Well, it would be a cruel twist of fate… two twins separated at birth end up in the same Games. A good plot for a book, but this is real life!

"I don't want to make connections with people who will die soon, it would be too painful. It's already painful," I say.

"What do you mean?" he enquire.

I lower my gaze in response. "Just that I knew my district partner before the Games. There's already a connection between us, but maybe I've broken it, when I refused to ally with him. I didn't want to be cruel, just… I would be a useless ally with my asthma, and I don't want to be a burden to anybody. Fabian stands more chances than me; if you want to help someone, help him."

"Are you in love with him?"

I blush. I look at Oliver again, and then slaps him.

"Hey! It was just a question!" he protests, while massaging his cheek.

"A silly question! Fabian is the most annoying boy I've ever met!" I rebut.

"Okay, okay, I didn't mean to get on your nerves. I'm sorry," he apologizes, holding his hands up in an act of defence.

I take a deep breath. "You should leave now, it's late, we both need to rest."

"Okay, but promise me that you'll be careful."

"Getting rid of me is not that easy, don't worry," I say with a slight smile.

Oliver smiles as well. "Right. We won't go down without a fight."

I roll my eyes. This we-won't-go-down-without-a-fight stuff is meant to make things look epic, I suppose, but it's pointless. The Games are cruel, that's all. There are neither heroes nor villains, but just twenty-six people fighting for their lives.

"See you tomorrow, sis," he continues.

"Don't call me sis."

"Sorry."

I sigh. "See you tomorrow, Oliver."

* * *

**Wow, I must admit that this chapter was easy to write. The words came quite naturally, and I'm glad I could update this story earlier than I planned. I hope you liked it. Actually, I thought that adding these two POVs was a good idea, considering what happened during the interviews. What do you think?**

**Submitters can assign points to: Oliver (D4M), Yolanda (D12F)**

**Specific questions about tributes:**

**Oliver: what do you think of his strategy?**

**Yolanda: can she trust Oliver?**

**As for my next updates, I will first of all write the Reaping of District 12 of _Divine Punishment_, and then move on with _Love Is the Deadliest Weapon _(next chapters: launch, bloodbath).**

**Let me remind you that submissions for SPONSORS are available for both my fanfics!**

**Thank you a lot for reading and reviewing :) **


	28. Launch: Sixty Seconds before Dying

**Hi, everyone! As promised, I changed the cover image, since there's a brief description of the arena at the end of this chapter. The 99****th**** annual Hunger Games are about to begin!**

**Enjoy your reading :)**

* * *

_The morning of the Games_

_Adam Thorn (18)- District 9 male tribute_

_The Fiancé_

I wake up. What an awful night I spent! A never-ending wheel of sleep and wakefulness. When I was awake, I tried all the possible strategies in order to fall asleep- from changing position to closing my eyes and trying to think of nothing. When I finally fell asleep, my slumber was haunted by horrible nightmares. I don't remember any of them, but, honestly, guessing what they were about is not that hard: what else but the Games? Today, I'll be sent to the arena, from which I might not come back alive. Therefore, I should be at my best, but this lack of sleep could be a problem.

I get up. I feel a bit drowsy, but a strong coffee will help me. On a chair before my closet, I find the outfit I have to wear in the arena: a long-sleeved, grey-green top; a wool jacket some shades darker; brown trousers; high socks; black hiking boots. These hiking boots may imply that the ground is uneven like in the mountains or in the hills. As for the wool jacket, it certainly means that the weather is cold in the arena. Another frozen landscape like last year? I hope not. There's nothing else I can deduce for the moment.

Once dressed, I go to the dining room to have breakfast. Rebecca is already there.

"Good morning," I greet her.

"Good morning," she greets me back.

She sounds rather nervous, and I cannot blame her. Who would stay calm knowing that they'll be sent to their death soon?

Anyway, I need energy, so I ask one of the avoxes to prepare me a large portion of bacon and eggs, while I'm pouring coffee from a thermos. Who knows when I'll have another decent meal? I sit at the table, next to Rebecca.

"How are you?" I ask her just to break silence.

"I'm fine," she answers, without looking at me.

"Glad to hear that. You're ready, then."

"No one can be ready for this, but my allies and I will do our best to survive. You should do the same."

"Do you think I won't?"

"I just think that you shouldn't focus on protecting me. You swore to do it during your interview, but you know you can't, not in the arena of the Hunger Games, don't you?"

"What else could I say? That I'm angry 'cause you betrayed me? That I feel so silly volunteering for you?" I retort, annoyed.

She watches me. She's angry as well. "I've never asked you to risk your life for me!"

"I love you, Rebecca! When you were reaped, I… I don't know… I couldn't reason, I… I acted on instinct. I can accept that you don't love me, but I might lose my life, and you don't care… that's what I cannot accept!"

"You're wrong, Adam! I do care about you, that's why I didn't want you to volunteer! I don't want you to die!"

"If I don't die, you will! Do you think I could stand that?"

"If you really loved me, you wouldn't speak of sacrificing your life as if it was worthless! You're not a hero, Adam, you're just selfish!"

That said, she stands up, and then leaves me alone. This was my last conversation with Rebecca before the arena, and it ended so badly. Jeez, it hurts! Where have I gone wrong with that girl?

…...

_Alexa Steel (17)- District 6 female tribute_

_The Peacekeeper_

Immediately after breakfast, I take a lift to the roof of the Training Center. Christopher is with me, and he's listening carefully to all the last tips our mentor is blurting out. These tips could be life-saving for him, but I don't need them for my part, I already know what I have to do. Besides, Christopher may even listen to our mentor until he's fed up, but he won't survive a whole day in the arena, no matter if he belongs to a gang. As a recruit, I faced some gang members in the past, but, honestly, their fighting skills always pale compared to the better training and armaments of peacekeepers.

We finally reach the roof- a flat area where a hovercraft is waiting for us. We have to queue before getting on it. They order us to roll up our sleeves so that a metal tracker can be inserted into our forearms with a syringe. Once this operation is done, we can leave. I've never taken a hovercraft before. Inside, there are thirteen seats on both sides. They aren't marked by any district number, so we can sit wherever we want, I suppose. Quite predictably, the Careers stick together. The force of numbers, the strength of the pack… a psychological strategy meant to frighten the others. Frighten your enemies, and they'll be more vulnerable and more likely to make mistakes… but this kind of stuff doesn't work on me. Part of the peacekeeper training focuses on situations in which you're outnumbered, so I'm not afraid of them… but I'm rather nervous, and when the hovercraft eventually takes off, I grow even more nervous. Am I afraid of flying? That's ridiculous! They'll certainly make sure that we arrive in the arena safe and sound!

I try to distract myself by looking around. Right in front of me, there's the girl of District 2, Scarlett Pearce. By the way she's smirking, I can tell that she's rather eager to be released into the arena. Besides, she must feel safe, given that she's part of the largest alliance of this year. During her interview, she said that she had already killed before the Games. This girl is definitely a threat. Honestly, I don't know if I'd rather have her as an ally or as an opponent. She strikes me as the type of tribute who could kill you in your sleep without second thought. The idea of being surrounded by potential killers is not that appealing, after all… and I'll be alone out there, but that's a calculated choice. At first, I thought of allying with the boy from Nine or Ten- they seemed strong enough- but then I found out that they were both too busy with their love problems to be considered reliable. Better late than never. I'll do better on my own. Everything is easier as a loner: hiding, moving, decision making, etc...

After a journey that seemed endless, the hovercraft starts finally to land. Its windows black out so that we cannot see the arena before the time. I find myself gripping the seatbelt with sweaty hands during landing, because I feel like my body was falling into the void, I feel the full weight of it. For the first time since the Reaping, I think of my family back home. What are they doing right now? Are they all in the main square, waiting for the massacre to begin?

…...

_Henry Almonds (14)- District 3 male tribute_

_The Chemist_

As soon as the hovercraft lands, they make us get off. We're assigned two peacekeepers each, who have to escort us to the Launch Room- the last safe place before entering the arena. There are twenty-six Launch Rooms; they're all underground, and linked together by a circular tunnel, which we have just entered. The air is chilly. I try to think of the clues about the arena I've collected so far: cold weather, poor vegetation… maybe a tundra? Not the merriest place to die, but who cares at this stage? No matter what kind of arena Gamemakers have chosen, I must do my best in order to survive. I look around, trying to spot my allies, but I cannot see neither Ambra nor Chris. I wonder on the basis of what criteria Gamemakers establish tributes' positions around the cornucopia. Training scores? If so, I should be not too distant from Chris. Or do they simply separate allies so that they take more risks (ergo they're more likely to be killed)? _Ah, Henry, try to keep a cool head! Once in the arena, you'll evaluate the situation, and then decide what to do! Remember… first your life, then that of your allies!_

I enter the Launch Room, where the peacekeepers leave me alone. They close the door, but I'm 100% sure that now they're keeping watch right outside it. Obviously, they don't want tributes to run away. Anyway, the Launch Room is completely empty, except for a circular plate enclosed in a glass tube. I get closer to the plate, and the tube automatically opens in two. Now, I just need to stand on this plate, and it will rise up to the surface, releasing me into the arena. Now is the time, but I cannot move, I'm frozen on the spot. _What are you waiting for, Henry? You'll end up in the arena in one way or another! There's nothing you can do to avoid all this!_

At this stage, I hear to door open behind my back. I turn around, expecting to see the peacekeepers come to force me in the tube, but it's my stylist- Hadrian- instead.

"You're so eager to be in the arena that you don't want to say goodbye!?" he says.

"I'm sorry, Hadrian," I apologize.

"I'll forgive you because it's you, and because this is the most stressful moment of the Games. Your destiny is about to unfold, my dear Henry, I hope you're ready."

"What can you tell me about my outfit?" I ask Hadrian just to change the subject.

"Well, this jacket is made of wool, but it's not that heavy, so cold weather, but not as cold as last year. In addition, your outfit doesn't seem waterproof, guess the weather is dry then," he answers, while examining my clothes.

"Thank you."

At this point, I hear a metallic voice say: "_Thirty seconds._"

"I've got something for you," says Hadrian, handing me my district token.

"I thought they had impounded it," I reply, unbelieving.

"Well, technically speaking, tributes aren't allowed to have tokens that could be used as a weapon. This vial is made of glass, that's why they impounded it, but we've managed to let it through, just… keep it hidden." he explains.

"Thank you, Hadrian! It means a lot!"

"Be careful, Henry, this little flower…"

"It's safflower," I lie, interrupting him.

"I don't doubt it. But, please, be careful. Even little things may cause trouble."

I look at him. Does he know the truth? Does he know that my token is actually a deadly weapon, and not because of its material? In any case, Hadrian seems more concerned about me using it than about me having it. If the Capitol found out that this flower is poisonous, what would they do? Would they punish me? Maybe they would send mutts against me, but they could also punish my family. Now, I wish my parents hadn't given this vial to me. This responsability is too great. I must be careful, so I'll wear my token under my wool jacket for the moment. Nobody should know that I have it.

"_Ten seconds._"

"Time to go," says Hadrian.

I nod in response. I'm too scared to utter a word.

"Good luck, Henry," he continues in a sad tone- is he about to cry?

"T-thanks," I reply with a slight smile.

That said, I stand on the metal plate. The tube closes. Now, I'm imprisoned in a glass trap. Eventually, the plate slowly begins to rise.

…...

_Bella Page (16)- District 7 female tribute_

_The Storyteller_

The plate is now rising and rising. The more it rises, the more I feel smothered. At first, I'm shrouded in darkness, but then a soft light coming from the top of the tube starts to be visible. I don't feel comforted, though. I know the light comes from the arena. Oh, I would like to hide in the darkness for the rest of my life! But I cannot leave Cedric alone. To be sincere, protecting him is the only thing that gives me the strength to face the Hunger Games. I must make sure that he wins this cruel competition.

When I eventually emerge in the open air, I need first to shield my eyes by my arms due to the sudden passage from darkness to daylight. When I've finally grown used to the light, I immediately look around. I recognize the kind of landscape I'm watching now, since I once saw a picture of it in a book. This is the heath. On my left, hills and hills covered by purple-green shrubberies extend as far as one can see. On my right, the hill on which the cornucopia stands slides slowly down into a valley, where a lake follows the outline of the hilly area. Actually, the cornucopia stands right on the top of the last hill before the valley. On its left, there's an imposing chestnut tree, which shades part of the ring of plates.

Now, all the tributes have emerged from the tubes, but I cannot see my brother anywhere. He must be on the other side of the cornucopia- the side where it opens. I feel a sudden pang in my stomach. The mouth of the cornucopia is the place where you can find the best supplies, but it's also the most dangerous place to be during the initial bloodbath. What should I do? Should I run in that direction, hoping to find Cedric still alive? Or should I simply grab a backpack at random and flee, hoping that he will do the same? If only I could communicate with him! Maybe we could meet halfway, but how? How can I let him know that this is my plan?

At this stage, the voice of Mircalla Blutdurst- the announcer for the Games- echoes through the arena: "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 99th annual Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favour!"

And that's when the countdown begins. It will last sixty seconds… sixty seconds before dying.

* * *

**Here we are, in the arena of the 99th Hunger Games. What do you think of it? Next chapter, there gonna be the bloodbath and the first casualties of this edition (sigh). It took me one year to get to this moment, so I must really thank all those who have supported me so far. Thank you for your patience! **

**Submitters can assign points to: Henry (D3M), Alexa (D6F), Bella (D7F), Adam (D9M)**

**Specific questions about tributes: **

**Henry: should he use his district token?**

**Alexa: what do you think of her attitude?**

**Bella: what should she do?**

**Adam: where has he gone wrong with Rebecca?**

**Thank you a lot for reading, and, please, leave a review with your impressions/suggestions, they're really helpful :)**


	29. Bloodbath: Red on Purple

**Scheme of bloodbath positions (the first line represents the plates on the back of the cornucopia. Tributes who have a POV in this chapter are underlined): **

**D4F-****D12F****-D10M-D3M-D13F-D7F-D11M-D6F-D12M-D1M-****D8F****-****D11F**

**D2M-CORNUCOPIA-D9M**

**D5F-D8M-D7M-D9F-D3F-****D2F****-****D13M****-D1F-D5M-D6M-D10F-D4M**

* * *

_First day in the arena_

_Owen Coin (18)- District 13 male tribute_

_The Memory_

_60…59…58…57…56…_

My plate is right in front of the cornucopia's mouth- for the moment, the most dangerous place in the arena. On my left, the girl from Two; on my right, that of One. I know that the Capitol wants me dead, but do they really need to make it that clear?

_...50…49…48…47…46…_

I stand no chances, but I cannot give up! Maybe I could try to grab the closest backpack, and then flee as fast as I can, hoping that the Careers will focus on other targets than me. When did I become so cynical? No, it's not a matter of cynicism, it's a matter of survival. There's no room for mercy or selflessness in the arena, one should think only of oneself.

_...40…39…38…37…36…_

I look around. On my left, there are two tributes between Rebecca and me. As soon as our eyes meet, she shakes her head as if to say that I should put as much distance as possible between me and the cornucopia. There's sincere concern in her gaze. I feel guilty. If she's got attached to me, it's all my fault. If only I hadn't got the idea of allying with her… now, I risk dragging her down with me. We have something in common: we have both a rebellious nature, and our family names are likely to become our ruin. Maybe, if things were different… but things are _not _different, no use dreaming.

_…30…29…28…27…26…_

Now, I'm contemplating suicide. It would be easy, I'd just need to jump off my plate before the time, and I would be blown to bits. No one would have the satisfaction of killing me. However, suicide would mean dying as a coward, and the Capitol would certainly use it as an excuse to dig up dirt on my family. I cannot let it happen!

_…20…19…18…17…16…_

It's almost time! I don't know what is faster: the countdown or my heartbeat?

_…10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…_

The gong sounds. Before I can even realize it, my legs start running towards the cornucopia, while adrenaline is flowing through my veins. Now that the Games have officially begun, I feel almost excited. Maybe I can make it.

"You're mine, Coin!" someone shouts, right before jumping on me.

I fall to the ground. I manage to roll belly up just to see that my aggressor is the girl of District 2. I try to free myself, but she repeatedly punches me in the face. Now, my head is spinning like crazy, and I feel so weak… weak and sore. But I'm not able to react. Am I really waiting helplessly for my death? At some point, the girl puts her hands around my neck, and tightens her hold immediately afterwards. Instinctively, I try to get her hands off my neck... but they seem to be made of steel. I try… I try to use my legs then… but she… she knees me in my ribs. I'd like so badly to scream in pain, but… just a moan comes out of my throat. I swear I can feel my trachea tighten, desperately seeking oxygen. My… my vision… my vision is blurry now… yeah, it's blurry, and… eventually, everything… goes dark… forever...

…...

_Scarlett Pearce (18)- District 2 female tribute_

_The Bloodthirsty_

The pleasure I feel as soon as the boy of District 13 dies is hardly describable. I take a minute to savour it. Knowing that the life of another person is in your hands, seeing it drain away from their eyes… every cell of my body is enjoying this moment! I feel so alive right now… now that I'm surrounded by death! But this feeling is like a drug; once you experience it, you become addicted, you need it more and more. At the moment, it feels like my mind is yelling at me to reap other victims. These are the Hunger Games after all, I cannot stop now that they have finally begun.

I look around. Excelsa has got a sword, and she has just killed the boy of District 5 with it. Oliver's plate was on the same side of the cornucopia as mine, but I cannot see him any longer. _Please, don't tell me that he decided to betray us to ally with his alleged sister!_ If so, he will be the next tribute I'll kill. Vivian and Kyle must be on the back of the cornucopia, given that I didn't see them during the countdown. But where's the hell is Victor? He was on my left at the start, maybe I should look in that direction… yeah, there he is… and the boy from Ten is running right towards him! I know they had a spat during the first day of training. Seeing how Victor copes with him gonna be interesting.

"It's about time you showed up, Ten!" says Victor.

"No trainer will save you here in the arena!" replies the other.

"Honestly, I didn't think you would be that stupid to defy me again."

"The same could be said for you."

"You won't kill me with your chit-chat! Come on! Show me what you can do!" Victor urges his opponent in an angry tone.

They begin to fight… well, calling that a fight is an euphemism, but at least they're trying. At first, they limit themselves to circle each other, without striking any actual blow. At some point however, the boy of District 10 kicks Victor in the shin- uh, that must be painful!- and punches him in the face immediately afterwards. Victor loses balance, and drops to his knees. Is he really about to be defeated by a tribute from an outer district? No, I cannot let it happen! If there's anyone who shall kill Victor, it's me! Besides, the Career pack cannot lose a member so early in the Games. It's a matter of dignity!

The boy's back is turned to me now. Great, that's the right occasion! He will be hopefully too focused on Victor to pay attention to me. He won't even hear me coming. I approach him as silently as I can, trying not to trip over the purplish shrubberies that cover the ground. _Hell! That's the most uncomfortable arena I've ever seen! _Anyway, I manage to sneak up on Ten without being noticed. I put my hands around his neck and snap it. His dead body drops to the ground like a puppet whose strings has just been cut. He didn't even realized what happened. A smirk forms on my lips. My second kill in the arena… two kills made only with my hands. I don't need any special weapon, after all.

"Scarlett…" says Victor, a puzzled expression on his swollen face.

I stretch my hand out to help him up, but he rejects my help. He stands up himself.

"You… you deprived me of my second kill!" he continues with an angry voice.

"Second?" I echo him.

"The girl of District 5 was my first kill," he explains, pointing at a corpse that lies near his plate.

"Oh, if you call that a kill…"

"Let's hear… what have you done so far except for killing my target?"

"I killed Coin," I promptly answer.

"Oh, lucky girl… they basically served him to you on a plate!" he comments, annoyed.

"He died, who cares how?" I point out with a shrug.

"I don't like this careless attitude of yours."

"And what do you wanna do about it? Kill me?" I enquire, smirking.

"Too early."

"Well, I wouldn't wait too much, if I were you. You know, your secret is not a secret to me…"

"Is that a threat?"

"We both know you're not supposed to be here, you're not the chosen tribute. What if our allies found it out?"

"What if I killed you right now?"

"You can try, but, since our conversations are recorded, now the Gamemakers know your secret as well. It will get out sooner or later, that's for sure. Of course, I want District 2 to win at all costs, but, if you kill me, you'll be alone. If I don't win, make sure you do it, okay?"

…...

_Autumn Peachskin (18)- District 8 female tribute_

_The Actress_

The back of the cornucopia is said to be relatively safe… but it's not true, not this year. On this side, there's Alexa Steel- the girl of District 6- who's showing an incredible ferocity. As soon as the gong sounded, she jumped off her pedestal, and ran towards a big backpack leaning on the cornucopia. I noticed it too during the countdown, but she reached it before me, and when I saw her get a belt with several knives out of it, I immediately stopped. Luckily, she didn't see me. She quickly wore the belt, and then turned back.

"Look up, Eleven!" I heard her shout, addressing Tobias Jackson, who was rummaging in a backpack.

Poor boy! He had just the time to raise his dark eyes that a knife hit his throat. With terror, I watched his blood flow out of his wound and soak his clothes, while he was slowly keeling over to the ground.

Now, Fabian Swift has just knelt down beside Tobias, trying to rescue him, but there's nothing he can do. Tobias is dead. At this stage, Fabian looks up at Alexa, who's walking right in his direction. His gaze is filled with hatred. He stands up. She throws a knife at him, but he dodges it. Then, she gets closer, and they begin to fight. Alexa attempts to stab him several times, whereas Fabian tries to disarm her, but what he gets are just bleeding cuts on his hands. Eventually, he loses the fight: she pushes him so that he trips over a backpack behind him, and then falls to the ground; she takes advantage of it, and stabs him repeatedly in the stomach, until he dies in a pool of blood. At this point, Alexa retrieves the knives she threw, grabs two backpacks, and flees towards the valley. She must be satisfied with two kills for the moment.

Suddenly, someone stops by me. It's Kyle. My muscles tense with fear. Kyle was kind to Tartan and me during training, but training is one thing, the arena is a whole other story… and Kyle is a Career, after all.

"Why are you still here?" he asks me in a worried tone.

"I-I…" I stammer.

How idiot I am! So far, I've limited myself to watch what's happening around me, but my life is at stake like that of my fellow tributes! I'm not a spectator, I'm a player in the bloody show of the Hunger Games!

Kyle gives me a backpack. "Flee as fast as you can!" he orders me.

But I'm still uncertain.

He rolls his eyes. "I'm not going to punch you in the back! Now, run!"

This time, I do what he said. I start running towards the purple-green hills, while wearing the backpack he gave me. I'll check later what's inside. Has he really spared my life? Why? His behaviour doesn't make sense… not in the Hunger Games, at least. But I've already wasted enough time today, I'd better think only of my survival now! Kyle gave me a chance, and I'm not going to waste it! I must put as much distance as possible between me and the other tributes, especially the Careers and the girl from Six. Well, she headed to the valley, and I'm running in the opposite direction, so we won't meet. But what about Tartan? I haven't seen him yet. I can only hope he's okay.

…...

_Maya Seeds (12)- District 11 female tribute_

_The Blossom_

Also the girl of District 8 left the bloodbath alive. From my hiding place, I can see her run towards the hills behind the cornucopia. I feel so guilty. When the gong sounded, I immediately ran and hid behind the chestnut tree standing right outside the ring of plates. I was scared to death… I'm _still _scared to death. But does it mean that I have to leave my allies alone? I could see them during the countdown, because their plates were not that distant from mine, but then I inevitably lost sight of them. Where are they? They didn't flee towards the hills, otherwise I would have seen them. Maybe they fled in the opposite direction… or maybe… no, they're not dead, they cannot be dead! To be sincere, I haven't dared to look at the bloodbath so far, I've just stayed here, shaking like a leaf, wincing every time I hear someone scream. Maybe I should have a look now.

Still leaning on the tree trunk, I peek my head out. A couple of Careers are guarding the mouth of the cornucopia, but luckily they aren't looking in my direction. The others must be inside, since I cannot see them anywhere. With my heart in my throat, I notice some bodies lying lifeless on the ground, but I cannot identify them, partly because they're half hidden by the shrubberies. Except for the Careers, there are still some tributes looking for supplies, but they're all on the back of the cornucopia. What should I do? I cannot stay here, that's for sure, but I'm scared. Maybe I should grab a backpack, and then flee, hoping to find my allies sooner or later. After all, I'd have more chances of surviving with some supplies. Yeah, I must get some supplies!

I run towards the back of the cornucopia. There are still some backpacks that nobody has taken for the moment. My attention is drawn in particular by one that looks pretty full. It's bigger than the others, but I don't need to take it with me, I could just rummage in it, and then choose what to take. If it contained food, it would be great. I am, however, disappointed when I get a bow and a quiver of arrows out of it. I don't even know how to use a bow! But maybe I could give it to Fabian.

"Give it to me!" someone yells at me.

I look up. It's the boy of District 9. His dark green eyes are beaming with rage. Would he kill me, if I refused to do what he said?

In response, I hold the bow close to my chest. "It's mine," I say.

"Kid, I've been looking for a bow since the Games have started. Give it to me!" he insists, stretching his hand out.

I shake my head.

At this point, he walks away, outraged… or, at least, he pretends to walk away. Actually, I feel a searing pain in my head immediately afterwards. He hit me from the back! I cannot see him, since I'm lying on my stomach now, but who else could my aggressor be? I try to crawl away, but he repeatedly hit my head with something hard. I scream with every blow, but he doesn't stop… he doesn't… Eventually, he throws his weapon… to the ground. Now… I can see that… it was a stone… a stone smeared with blood… my blood. I hear him… I hear him get away, so… don't know how… I turn… I turn on the side. I see the boy of District 9… yeah, my aggressor… was him… and now he's running away… towards the hills… like the girl from Eight. Maybe he thinks I'm dead, but… no, it's not so. Help… please, it hurts… help… I'm crying with pain… it hurts a lot… a lot. I don't want to die… I don't… I want… I want to become a teacher… I want to see… my family again… and Tobias… and Fabian. I'm scared... everything... is getting... darker and darker…

…...

_Yolanda Underwood (15)- District 12 female tribute_

_The Outsider_

I'm running towards the valley. My vision is blurred by tears, but I cannot stop. Neither my asthma could stop me at this point. I've got a backpack in one hand, and a bloodied spear in the other. I didn't expect that. Yeah, I knew I was going into the Hunger Games, I knew I would need to kill in order to survive… but knowing it and doing it are two different things. But I did it just to defend myself, didn't I? There's nothing wrong with that, right?

_The gong sounds. Everyone jumps off their pedestal. Actually, every tribute is now aiming at the backpacks, shoving and elbowing each other like tomorrow doesn't exist. I cannot run that fast, though. If I had an asthma attack right now, it would mean my death. Maybe I could wait until the majority of tributes run away. The only real threat near me is the girl from Four, but she's heading to the front of the cornucopia, so she won't bother me, I hope. Also the boy from Ten is running in that direction, and he almost bumps into me. Luckily, he doesn't seem interested in me... I don't think I could defeat him in combat, after all._

_At some point, my eyes land on a backpack that might be right for me. It's not that big, so it's likely to be ignored. My instinct tells me that I should immediately flee as fast as I can, but I'll need supplies to survive in the arena, and I cannot rely exclusively on sponsors to get them. I must show them that I'm able to take initiative, and maybe they'll be more willing to help me... maybe... I know that I don't exactly embody their ideal of a victor, but I'll do my best in order to win. So, I quickly get closer to the backpack, but..._

_"Hey, Twelve! I haven't forgotten about you!" someone shouts from my right._

_I instinctively get down... just in time to hear something whistle above my head. I look left. There's a spear on the ground. If I hadn't got down, it would have pierced me like a meat skewer. I look right. The girl of District 4 is running in my direction, her green eyes full of killing spree. I try to get up, but she grabs me by the ankles, making me fall to the ground again. _

_"Where are __y__ou going? You'll miss all the fun!" she says._

_She starts to haul me away, but I kick and squirm in response. _

_"Stay still!"_

_No, I'm not going to stay still! __When I finally manage to break free of her hold, I start crawling towards the spear. She tries to stop me, but I roll belly up, and kick her in the stomach. That gives me the time to reach the spear. I grab it, and, when the girl attacks me one more time, I use it to stab her in the stomach. She doesn't scream, though… or, rather, she tries to say something, but she just spits blood. By her facial expression, I can tell that she's both surprised and scared. With terror, I ___see ___her __release the spear from her stomach, and then let it fall to the ground. She __tr___ies___ to keep standing, but __she has no energies left, and I have to roll sideways to prevent her from falling on me. _

_The girl is dead, and it's all my fault… __it's all my fault. But __it was her who attacked first, so I just defended myself, right? If I hadn't done it, I would have died. This thought fails at consoling me ,though. __I killed a person, I ended a life… even though the girl was an enemy, tears start to stream down on my face. I will never be the same, that's for sure. I cannot take my eyes off her corpse lying face-down on the ground… but I cannot stay here neither! So, I work up the courage to grab both the backpack and the bloodied spear. ___While I'm doing it___, I notice that Oliver is staring at me, his eyes widened with terror. Does he still see me as a sister, even if I'm a killer? Or does he think that I'm a monster? Ah, there's no time to dwell on these things! I'm still in danger, I need to find a safe place to hide! __So, I start running towards the valley, without saying a word to Oliver._

I don't know how long I've been running. I just know that I ran past a lake, but didn't stop there, because a lake means water, and it is the first place the Careers will head to in order to find someone to kill. But I cannot continue for long. I can hardly breathe, and I'm so thirsty.

Eventually, I stop at a pond. There's also a thicket nearby. I immediately wheeze into my inhaler. I sit down between two rocks, which stand near the waterside. I put the spear on the ground, and then check what there is inside my backpack. I'm utterly disappointed when I find out that most of the space is occupied by a blanket, but at least it has the same colour and pattern of the shrubberies surrounding me, so I'll be able to blend in while sleeping. In addition to the blanket, there is also an empty flask, iodine tablets, vitamin C tablets, and some dried fruit. Not bad. At the Training Center, I've learnt that iodine can be used to purify water. Iodine tablets are water-soluble, so I just need to fill the flask, add a tablet, wait thirty minutes for it to take effect, add a vitamin C tablet to remove the taste of iodine, and eventually drink. Since I don't know how pure this water pond is, I wait more than thirty minutes before drinking it. Better safe than sorry. I empty my flask, and then I fill it again, repeating the same steps to purify its content.

In the meantime, the sun has begun to set. The sky is now coloured by breath-taking hues of yellow, orange, and violet, and a light fog is slowly lifting between the purplish shrubberies. A wonderful place, and yet so deadly.

I definitely need some rest. I lie on the ground, using my backpack as a pillow, and covering myself with my blanket. It is warm, so I won't need to start a fire to warm up during the night. Besides, it would be unwise. I'm in a flat valley, so a fire can be seen from miles away. I haven't cleaned my spear yet, but I'll hold it in hand even while sleeping. If someone or something attacks me, I'll be ready to defend myself. __Now, try to sleep, Yolanda, try to sleep and to forget... __

* * *

**So, this was quite a bloodbath, don't you think? Eight deaths, and eighteen tributes still alive. What do you think of this chapter?**

**Submitters can assign points to: Scarlett (D2F), Autumn (D8F), Yolanda (D12F)**

**Specific questions about tributes:**

**Scarlett: is she going to kill Victor or the other way round? **

**Autumn: what do you think of her ****behaviour****?**

**Yolanda: would you like her to win?**

**GROUPS IN THE ARENA**

**Careers: Kyle (D1M), Excelsa (D1F), Victor (D2M), Scarlett (D2F), Oliver (D4M)**

**Loners: Alexa (D6F), Autumn (D8F), ******Adam (D9M), **Yolanda (D12F)**

**THE FALLEN**

**26****th****: Owen Coin (18), D13M, the Memory- strangled by Scarlett Pearce (D2F). When I created Owen, I knew he couldn't win due to his family name, but I tried to make sure he would leave a mark, nonetheless. I think he did it when he defied the Gamemakers during his private session. All things considered, the bloodbath was the best moment for him to die, no use raising false hopes.**

**25****th****: Cliff Wells (14), D5M, the Dam Worker- stabbed by Excelsa Serafin (D1F) with a sword. Cliff was not easy to love. He was kind of obsessed with the injustices he thought he suffered in District 5 and in the Games. Certainly, he couldn't go that far with such a negative attitude. On the other hand, I think he represented our desire to see recognized our sacrifices. I will miss writing about him.**

**24****th****: Rhonda Hope (12), D5F, the Orphan- killed by Victor Blade (D2M). Poor Rhonda! She was one of the sweetest characters of this story. She was just one step away from having a better life along with Amanda, but she ended up in the Games. I'm sorry she didn't earn enough points to survive longer in the arena. I'll miss her. **

**23****rd****: Timothy "Tim" Cunningham (18), D10M, the Rancher- neck snapped by Scarlett Pearce (D2F). Timothy volunteered for his younger brother. Nevertheless, I think the way he treated Estrella made him very unpopular, there isn't that much to say about it. If only he was kinder to her… but now it's too late ****for him ****to make up for his mistakes. RIP, Timothy. **

**22****nd****: Tobias Jackson (13), D11M, the Breadwinner- throat hit by a knife thrown by Alexa Steel (D6F). Tobias was young but strong. The death of his father forced him to become the breadwinner of his family, of which he was very fond. Despite adversity, he could be playful and kind, especially to his sister Flo and district partner Maya. His family will grieve the loss of such a special boy.**

**21****st****: Fabian Swift (15), D12M, the Gambler- stabbed in the stomach by Alexa Steel (D6F). Fabian was a boy who liked taking risks, and allying with the couple of District 11 was kind of a risk. Did he do it out of despair? Probably yes. Certainly, Yolanda's decision to be a loner was a hard blow to him. They had a love-hate relation, and maybe there could have been something more, if they had had enough time ****to develop it****, but so it was not.**

**20****th****: Maya Seeds (12), D11F, the Blossom- head smashed by Adam Thorn (D9M) with a stone. Poor Maya! She was a blossom not yet in bloom. She had a future, but the Hunger Games took it away from her. Her last thoughts were for her family and friends, as expected from a lovely girl like her. With her death, the underdogs' alliance ultimately dissolved. RIP, Maya, your suffering is over. **

**19****th****: Vivian "Vivi" Tide (18), D4F, the Mermaid- ****stabbed in the stomach by Yolanda Underwood (D12F) with a spear. Vivian, Vivian, Vivian… the fact that she got the highest score of this year was not enough to save her life. ****A hard life taught her to show a flirty facade, but we all know that, deeper down, she was a strong, proud, independent girl, who didn't want to rely on anyone in order to survive. With her death, the Career pack has certainly lost a combative member. **

**DISTRICTS' RANKING**

**13****th****: District 5- 25****th****, 24****th**

**12****th****: District 11- 22****nd****, 20****th**

**KILLS**

**Excelsa: 1 (Cliff)**

**Victor: 1 (Rhonda)**

**Scarlett: 2 (Owen, Timothy)**

**Alexa: 2 (Tobias, Fabian)**

**Adam: 1 (Maya)**

**Yolanda: 1 (Vivian)**


	30. Night1: Screams in the Night

_At __twilight_

_Excelsa Serafin (18)- District 1 female tribute_

_The Ambitious_

It has not been that long since the bloodbath, and yet the sun has already gone down, but there's still light. At the moment, we're all resting under the shade of the chestnut tree, while a hovercraft is retrieving the bodies of the fallen tributes. A cannon fires for each of them. Eight deaths… eight is not a bad number, but Vivian… she shouldn't have died, not so early in the Games. With her death, the Career pack has lost a member. We're still five, but I cannot help but be annoyed, even if I found her behaviour silly and unworthy of a Career.

"What shall we do now?" asks Oliver at some point.

"Let's go hunting! That's what they expect us to do… you know, the show must go on," replies Scarlett with a smirk.

"But someone should stay to guard the cornucopia," rebuts Kyle.

"Why don't you stay, then? For my part, my hands are getting itchy, I'm eager to be back in action!" says Victor, pretending to put his hands on Kyle, who looks unperturbed, though.

"No problem."

Victor giggles in response. "No problem!? I'm asking you to step aside, and that's all you can say!? Looks like victors' children are not that brave, after all. I wonder what your parents would tell you, if they were here…"

That's where I chime in: "Stop it, Victor! We're not here to argue. Yes, we'll go hunting, but Kyle is right: someone should stay here to guard our supplies, and to welcome eventual thieves. The Career pack is the strongest alliance in the arena, but we need supplies to survive like all the other tributes, right?"

"I'm not questioning it, but…"

"We will split into two groups: one will stay here, the other will go hunting, okay?" I go on, interrupting him.

"And in which group will you be, boss?" he enquires in an impertinent tone.

"Victor…"

"Oh, I'm sorry, "boss" is not enough… is "your majesty" better?"

At this stage, Scarlett intervenes: "Blah, blah, blah… do you really need to waste _our_ time like that, Victor? You're the only one who's complaining about who knows what! We would already been hunting by now, if you didn't speak too much!"

Victor doesn't say anything in response… finally. Scarlett has managed to silence him, I should ask her to tell me her secret.

I resume my speech: "Ahem… Kyle and I will stay here, the others will go hunting. You could start by exploring the lakeside, you might find someone there."

Scarlett nods in response. "Okay, if you don't want to come with us…"

"Not this night. I've got already one kill," I reply, pointing at the bloodied blade of my sword.

After that, Scarlett, Victor, and Oliver leave. The hovercraft has done its job, so Kyle and I can get closer to the cornucopia. I start cleaning my sword. Killing was not as thrilling as I expected. To be sincere, I felt nothing when I stabbed the boy of District 5. I found him in my way, and I just did it. My brain knew exactly what to do. It was all over in no time. Is that normal? Do all Careers feel like that? Disappointed, empty… as if all their life was just a big lie? Ah, the bloodbath is always a mess, one has not the time to think of what they're doing! I'm going to enjoy the Games from now on!

"Thank you for supporting my idea," says Kyle at some point.

I look at him. "It was just a good idea," I reply with a shrug.

"You okay?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You look pensive."

"I was just thinking that we lost an ally too early in the Games. I mean, we are the Careers… if we don't want to become the laughingstock of all Panem, we should show them who we are," I explain.

He nods in response. "Yeah, it was a serious loss."

"Do you miss Vivian? She seemed… let's say… fond of you," I enquire.

"Fond? She just flirted," he rebuts with a slight smile on his lips.

"Okay… but maybe you could pretend to love her, if she was still alive, of course. You know, romances in the Games attract sponsors, not that you need such tricks…"

"What about you? Do you miss Claude?" he asks.

His question catches me off guard. Does he know Claude? How? I glare at him.

He looks down, embarrassed. "I-I'm sorry, indiscreet question…" he apologizes, while scratching behind his ear.

"How can you know him?"

He looks at me again. "Well, he came to visit me after the Reaping," he explains.

"Why? What did he want from you?"

"Umm… good question. I think he was angry, because I didn't let him volunteer… at first. But then… I reassured him… I mean, avoiding the Hunger Games was the best thing to do for him, otherwise you would have lost him. At least, you have someone to fight for, Excelsa…"

"Do you really think I need someone to fight for to be here? No, I'm not here 'cause someone _told _me to do it, I'm here 'cause I _wanted _it for _myself_!" I reply, outraged.

That said, I head to the back of the cornucopia with my sword in hand.

"Loving someone is not a weakness," says Kyle, but I don't say anything in response, I don't even turn to him.

What could I tell him, after all? That I do love Claude? That I didn't want him to volunteer, because I knew he would die? That I'm in the Games also for him, because I feel so guilty? If he's crippled now, it's all my fault, after all! No, I cannot say such things aloud! The Gamemakers would see me as a weakling, and I cannot let it happen! If I want to win, they must think that I deserve it! Luckily, Cinnamon didn't ask me anything about Claude during my interview, otherwise I would need to say cruel things- like that he's just a poor suitor- in order to hide the truth. I'm going to fix things with Claude after the Games. Until then, I will be focusing only on winning.

…...

_First night in the arena_

_Christopher "Chris" Terranova__ (1__2__)- District __6__ male tribute_

_The __Explorer_

Ambra and I have hidden in a thicket… a little predictable as a hiding place, but it's better than nothing. Besides, night has fallen quickly in the arena, so we cannot go that far without torches, and a torch would be too visible. We didn't see Henry during the bloodbath, we can only hope he's still alive.

Suddenly, the anthem of Panem echoes through the arena. Time to see who died. I look up at the sky, where they start projecting the faces of the fallen tributes. _Please, not Henry… _and luckily the first face to appear is that of the girl from Four. The girl from Four!? A Career died then! It means that Henry is still alive; we don't know where he is, but he's still alive, that's what matters. I breathe a sigh of relief. After the girl from Four, I see the couple of District 5. Then, the boy of District 10... another unexpected death... I mean, he seemed so strong. The next tribute is the boy from Eleven, immediately followed by his district partner. Then, the boy of District 12, and eventually the boy from Thirteen- definitely the most predictable death so far. Eight deaths altogether... I hope that the Capitol is satisfied with this outcome- for the moment, at least- and that the first night in the arena will be quiet.

When the anthem stops, I don't expect anything else to break the silence of the night, but I'm wrong. I hear someone scream... well, more than a person... honestly, I don't know if what I'm listening to are human screams. They're deep as if the earth itself emitted them, but also eerie, and they seem to be carried by the gentle breeze that has just risen.

Instinctively, I turn to Ambra, who looks rather nervous. "Mutts?" I offer.

"So early? Improbable," she replies, but doesn't sound completely convinced; in fact, she starts looking around her, as if she was trying to find the source of these scary screams.

"It's just a trick of the Gamemakers… they want to scare us," I say, trying to think positive… well, as positive as possible, at least; actually, knowing that Gamemakers like playing tricks on tributes is not that reassuring.

"Yeah, you're right," she agrees, and then she resumes what she was doing before the anthem: starting a fire and trying to set it small.

"Eight deaths," she says after a while. "One of them is a Career, but the pack is still in five… too large to be faced. Henry is still alive, but we don't know where he is, so we cannot count on him for the moment. Under such circumstances, we should keep moving during the day, and rest during the night, but let's try to avoid the other tributes, okay? We have some supplies- which is good- but they won't last forever, and we cannot wait for sponsors' gifts. We could try to hunt… I mean, animals, not tributes… since I don't know if all these shrubberies are edible. Henry would know it, but he's not here."

"But we should try to find him," I rebut.

"How? He could be anywhere."

"I don't know… maybe with some signals… smoke signals…"

"Smoke signals would reveal our position also to other tributes," she points out.

"What shall we do with Henry, then?" I ask.

She sighs in response, turning to the crackling flames. "Let's stuck to my plan, if you agree with it, of course. First of all, we should think of our survival. We are of no service to Henry, if we die."

…...

_Oliver "Ollie" Litore __(1__5__)- District __4 __male tribute_

_The Distant Brother_

Fruitless. This hunt around the lake has been fruitless so far. Besides, I think that no tribute would be so stupid to stay in the first place Careers usually explore after the bloodbath, namely one of the main sources of water in the arena. But maybe the darkness and the huge bushes on the ground are enough to hide from view. Hell! I hate the arena! I can barely see my feet, and I constantly risk stumbling on all these shrubberies! Luckily, the vegetation seems to be less thick than in the hills, and you can find also patches of grass among the bushes. But a troublesome vegetation is not enough for the Gamemakers, apparently; they need to haunt the night through these horrible screams! What's the hell are they? Where do they come from? But I don't think that knowing the answer to my questions would make me feel any better.

Suddenly, Scarlett- who's ahead of all- stops, and starts looking around her.

"What's up?" asks Victor.

"Shhhh!"

I hear a tinkle, even if it cannot overwhelm the screams… it must be a gift from the sponsors! So early? In fact, a little, silver parachute appears, producing the tinkling sound I heard. It lands before us. Scarlett immediately grabs the packet it holds, and frees it from the parachute. It's a square box with a number 2 on its top. Scarlett opens it.

"Hey, it could be for me!" protests Victor.

She doesn't listen to him, though. She pulls out a pair of glasses from the box. Glasses? What's for? There's also a note inside the box:

_Good hunt, Scarlett. Beware of the girl from Six._

_H._

"Looks like someone wants me to hunt," she says with a smirk.

Victor rolls his eyes in response.

"What are these glasses?" I enquire.

"Wear them," she replies, and gives her gift to me.

I wear them. Wow, everything is green… oh, wow! I can see everything as if were daylight!

Scarlett takes back her glasses. "Night vision glasses. Even if a tribute is hidden in the dark, we can find them," she explains.

"Wow," I say, gaping.

Victor flicks my chin. "Close your mouth, Four, or it will fill up with flies."

He sounds serious, despite what he said. Also Scarlett has a straight face.

"We have no time to waste. Let's show the Capitol that we appreciate their gifts, otherwise we won't get anything else!" she says.

"If Four is ready to be a true Career…" he adds.

"Hey! I haven't killed anyone yet, but I will!" I protest.

"We'll see," he replies.

No, I'm not ready to be a true Career. The truth is that I haven't followed them to kill, I've followed them just to make sure they don't find my sister. Yeah, my sister… she had the courage to kill Vivian… in self-defence, but she actually did it. I won't miss Vivian, but I cannot help but think that my sister would be able to kill me as well, if she saw me as a threat. She won't trust me until I'm a Career, but I cannot betray my allies… not now, at least. Betrayal equals death, right? But I will need to leave the pack sooner or later, no matter what Thalas thinks. I can barely stand them, they talk of killing people like it was nothing! Only Kyle seems okay, but it could be just a facade. Ahhh… what a situation! If Scarlett and Victor found my sister right now, what would I do? Would I be able to fight against them to protect her?

…...

_Estrella Sol __(1__7__)- District __10__ fe__male tribute_

_The __Rejected_

I can't believe it! Tim is dead… my Tim is dead! I didn't see him during the bloodbath, I didn't even think of him, I just… I found my allies and fled. At the moment, we're resting near a pond. I cannot think of anything else but Timothy's death. How could it happen? I'm crying like a baby now, I haven't got the strength to hold back my tears. Honestly, I didn't think I would live that long to see his face in the sky.

At some point, someone puts her hand on my shoulder. I turn around. It's Rebecca, who's sat down beside me. Christine stands right behind her.

"Estrella, you need to stay strong, your life doesn't end with his death," says the former.

"I-I was just thinking that… I was selfish… I-I ran away from the cornucopia without looking for him," I reply while sobbing.

"Selfish!? Tsk! He made it clear that he didn't want to have anything to do with you! You owed nothing to him, is that understood? Nothing!" retorts Christine, clearly annoyed.

"Christine…"

"You know I'm right, Rebecca!"

"Yes, you're right, but maybe some sensitivity…"

"Sensitivity!? These are the Hunger Games!"

"It's true… I-I know I should be stronger… for m-my grandma, at least… just… I loved Tim, e-even when he mistreated me," I say.

"We're not asking you to forget your love, we just want you to do your best in the Games, okay?" replies Rebecca.

I nod in response.

"This attitude won't help you, though," adds Christine.

"You're both right," I say, wiping away my tears. "I'm in an alliance, and I have to do my part whatever happens."

"Yes, but remember that we can understand your grief. If you need to talk, you can count on us. I mean, when you lose someone you love…"

I look at her. "Do you miss Owen?"

"Owen?"

"I saw how you gazed at each other…"

Rebecca looks down in response. "Well, Owen was… he was a special boy, but he couldn't win, and we both knew it."

"Ah! Why are you still talking about boys? How boring!" Christine chimes in, but she sounds amused this time.

"Do you wanna talk about girls, then?" Rebecca teases her, but without malice.

Christine blushes in response. "I think we should set up a guard through the night," she says, changing the subject.

Rebecca smirks. "All right. I'll take the first watch. I don't think I could sleep with these awful screams, in any case."

"These screams must be the work of the Gamemakers. I wouldn't worry about them, if I were you. I'm more concerned with the other tributes."

Rebecca nods in agreement.

"But, before going to bed…" adds Christine with a wide smile. "Repeat after me: we are rebel girls!"

Rebecca and I look at each other, confused.

"What?" she asks, turning to Christine.

"Come on! Stand up, and repeat it!" she urges us.

"Why?"

She rolls her eyes in response. "It's a battle cry. Let's make a sort of deal: we'll do our best to make sure one of us wins. What do you think?" she offers.

"It's a great idea!" I comment with a smile, and then I stand up.

Rebecca does it as well.

"We are rebel girls!" we say all together.

…...

_Cedric Page__ (1__2__)- District __7 __male tribute_

_The Little Hero_

Bella and I have stopped among the shrubberies, in the middle of nowhere… but it's better than nothing, right? Besides, it's too dark to go on. I can't believe it, we survived the bloodbath! I'm so happy! The only problem is that we have no supplies. We thought only of getting together and running away. But we're alive and uninjured, that's what matters. The bloodbath was a horrible spectacle, we were right to stay away from it. But how long can we both survive like that? Without supplies, without knowing what to do or where to go…

"Cedric," Bella calls me at some point.

I turn to her. "Yes?"

"You okay?" she enquires in a worried tone.

"Why shouldn't I?" I reply with another question.

"Cedric…"

I snort. Why do elder siblings need to ask about everything?

"Is it due to the bloodbath?" she goes on.

My plate was located on the front of the cornucopia, so I could see what the Careers did, how they killed without second thoughts… awful things to see. In the past, I watched the Hunger Games on TV, but they were on TV, I wasn't involved! To be sincere, a part of me believed… or, rather,_ wanted_ to believe that it was all a fiction. Those tributes were not dying for real… but they actually were instead. I'd like so badly to cry, to shout out so loud to overwhelm the horrible screams that are now echoing through the arena! But I promised my parents that I would be as strong as a knight, and I don't want to disappoint them. What I promise, I keep it, after all. Besides, Bella has already to think of our survival, I don't want to make her worry even more.

At some point, she sighs. "Okay, if you don't want to talk…"

"It's just… watching the Games is one thing, but being a tribute… I'm just trying to get accustomed to it, that's all," I reply with a shrug.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, don't worry."

"Okay. Why don't we get some sleep? The night is chilly, but we're wearing warm clothes, and if we stay close, maybe we'll manage to warm up a bit," she offers.

"Okay."

Bella stretches out on a patch of grass that is hidden among the thick bushes. I take a minute to look up at the moonlit sky. It reminds me of the summer nights I spend with my friends back in District 7, when we sneak out of our houses, and head to the woods to watch the stars. There's a little glade in the woods. There, we may spend hours without saying a word. I sigh. Axel, Rob... will I be able to see them again? I look at my sister, who's lying on her side. That's a selfish thought... if I do see my best friends again, it will mean that Bella is dead, and I don't want her to die... I don't want anyone to die, not even the Careers.

Suddenly, my thoughts are interrupted by a noise coming from above, and it's not a scream. I look up again. I see a silver figure floating in the air. It produces a sort of tinkle, and it slightly shines under the full moon. It's a parachute... a gift from the sponsors!

"Bella!" I call my sister, but she's already asleep.

The parachute lands right at my feet. The gift must be for me, then. I'm as happy as if it was a birthday present. I open it with trepidation, indeed: the sponsors sent a bottle of water and a loaf of bread. It's not much, but it means that Bella and I can hope, because someone in the Capitol is rooting for us.

…...

_Mircalla Blutdurst (47)- Announcer for the Hunger Games_

"My dear Cinnamon, have you got any comment about the first day in the arena?" I ask.

"Well, eight deaths are a good beginning, don't you think? However, the first night has been kind of boring so far- no new alliances, no deaths... but there are those screams, what do you think they are?" he replies.

"No idea, Cinnamon, but I'm really curious. The Gamemakers must have something special in store."

"You're certainly right."

"By the way, I don't fully agree with you, the first night is not that boring. The sponsors are already at work, and I really love the rebel girls. If you think about it, there are more females than males now, and most of the fallen tributes were killed by females for the moment. Girl power!" I say with enthusiasm.

"It costs me to admit it, but it's a fact... should I feel threatened by you, Mircalla?" he replies, pretending to be worried.

"Who knows?"

That said, we both burst out laughing.

* * *

**So, the first night in the arena was, let's say, quiet. To be sincere, I meant this chapter as an update on the tributes' positions and situations, that's why I decided to keep everybody alive. I know that Henry and Tartan are still missing, but I'm going to write about them in the following chapters, I promise. Anyway, what do you think the screams are?**

**Submitters can assign points to: Excelsa (D1F), Oliver (D4M), Christopher (D6M), Cedric (D7M), Estrella (D10F)**

**Specific question about tributes:**

**Excelsa: what do you think of her attitude?**

**Oliver: will he be able to leave the Careers?**

**Christopher: should he follow Ambra's plan?**

**Cedric: if you were a sponsor, would you root for him?**

**Estrella: is she a rebel girl for real?**

**GROUPS IN THE ARENA**

**Careers: Kyle (D1M), Excelsa (D1F), Victor (D2M), Scarlett (D2F), Oliver (D4M)**

**No longer a trio: Ambra (D3F), Christopher (D6M)**

**We are rebel girls: Rebecca (D9F), Estrella (D10F), Christine (D13F)**

**Siblings: Cedric (D7M), Bella (D7F)**

**Loners: Alexa (D6F), Autumn (D8F), ******Adam (D9M), **Yolanda (D12F)**

**SUPPLIES SENT**

**Scarlett: night vision glasses (category: useful items)**

**Cedric: a bottle of water and a loaf of bread (category: food/water)**


End file.
